


The Dark Side Whispers

by teamfreewifi



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, OC is sort of like X-23, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Has A Heart, canon until its not lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-03-05 07:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamfreewifi/pseuds/teamfreewifi
Summary: Her whole life was derailed the day her family fell apart. Danny Barton spent the better part of her years trying to find her way before Pepper Potts and Tony Stark helped pick up the pieces. Burdened by her past and newfound powers, she must maneuver through life as more and more supers come out from the shadows. Perhaps a certain doctor could show her the light.Or, a ridiculously slow slow-burn love story for Bruce Banner (Timeline spans from Phase One)





	1. Sympathy for the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just as every cop is a criminal  
> And all the sinners saints  
> As heads is tails  
> Just call me Lucifer  
> 'Cause I'm in need of some restraint”  
> \- Rolling Stones

Blood. Dark red and rust-smelling. It marked the tiles and the walls and the case files. Danny Barton’s jaw fell slack the moment her eyes landed on the lab assistant’s body, sprawled across the floor. Her eyes were locked on the man’s lifeless form, lying in the growing pool of his own blood. A slew of emotions swept through her: shock, disgust, fear.

    Anger.

    Staring down at her hands, bloodied and scarred, Danny started to grow even angrier. She was caught in a rage that she wasn’t capable of controlling. Her eyes flickered to a figure in her peripheral; Dr. Titus Reddik stood smirking. Seeing nothing but red, Danny all but growled out, "What in the hell did you _do_ to me!"

    A sardonically narcissistic smirk appeared on Reddik's face. Something in his eyes glistened. "I cured your cancer, Ms. Barton,” the doctor replied smugly. “Child, if anything, you should be _thanking_ me!"

    Danny bore daggers into him, feeling her blood boil; growls built up in her chest. In the back of her mind, she felt different. Throughout all the testing and the therapy – the most torturous days – Danny had felt a change. She always figured it just to be the drugs. Danny had passed out so many times from the pain of the doctor’s hellish treatments and experiments that she wasn’t sure if everything she thought she remembered was even real.

    After all, doctors were supposed to _help_ their patients, right?

    Finally, Danny spoke to him again, the emotion clear in her words. “I would rather have six months left in my life than... than…” She trailed off from the eminent threat that danced behind her lips. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

    An initial shock rang through Danny’s entire body as a new voice came from the recesses of her mind: _Kill him._ It was a sharp and dark voice in her head. _Kill him_ , it kept chanting.

    Anger rolled past the lingering confusion. Danny’s mind worked faster than it ever had; drawing conclusions to problems she’s never had to factor. All other feelings and notions ran dry and desolate as the anger built up inside the very pit of her stomach.

    Rage continued to grow in her heart as Reddik howled in laughter, realizing what was becoming of her. Danny watched his movements as she felt sweat begin to trail down her neck. In the back of her mind, she indulged herself in thinking of ways to get rid of his body and – _I need to stop_.

    From the tests they had run earlier on in the week after waking from her coma, her body was teetering on the edge of exhaustion. After months of radiation and blood transfusions and off-the-record experiments, Danny was surprised she hadn’t dropped dead already. The latest of the countless treatments – as the unjust doctor had called them; nearly drowning her alive in a tank of radioactive gamma residue – had nearly done her in.

    The nightmare didn’t stop there, as she was moved into a... She didn’t even know _what_ to call it. All Danny remembered were the needles and the nearly endless pain. “Your cancerous cells are depleting,” Reddik had told her once. “Your bonded genes will start to regenerate your healthy cells; you’ll be as good as cured in no time.”

    _Kill him._ All she felt was anger; an urge she was unable to bury. All that continued to cloud her mind were two words: _Kill him_. Danny ground her teeth together to the point that it hurt; the sharpness of the pain dissipated when she snarled.

    Reddik suddenly froze stiff, fear clearly written across his features. "Oh, come on, child,” the doctor challenged. “I saved your life. I _made_ you. You can’t possibly kill me." The realization that Danny wasn’t going to listen to his words appeared to dawn on him. Her eyes locked on his dull ones as he reached for some sort of weapon in a nearby desk drawer.

    One step forward; one shot broke through the tense silence. Reddik had shot at Danny – and completely, utterly failed. Another threatening growl escaped her lips. He said something about her making a mistake, that he was her maker. Danny only crept closer to his figure now pressed against the far wall.

    " _There have been no mistakes, doctor._ You must reap what you sow.” Those words escaped her lips without hesitation. Internally, Danny felt as if her mind wasn't just her own; that it was shared with something else. Everything felt fuzzy and her head was pounding, but rage continued growing in her chest.

    Claws, much resembling thin daggers, broke though the epidermis of Danny’s hands; four to count. The crimson red of her blood dripped to the stark white tiles. She halted her steps, gazing at the claws made of an alien metal that rounded off to a sharp point. They reminded her of that Wolverine, to an extent. Danny began to wonder if –  

    A clank echoed in the small laboratory and grabbed at her attention. Wide eyes first searched and then darted to the corner nearest the door. His lab coat billowed from movement as Reddik squeezed behind a bookcase for cover. Yet another blood-curdling sound flitted freely past Danny’s lips; however, it was not a growl or a snarl, or anything in between. She had laughed a laugh that was not hers; a laugh that was frightening, menacing – bone-chilling, even.

    It was then that Danny blacked out.

    The next thing she remembered was running. Somehow, she felt no fatigue, no pain. She didn’t mind the gashes and wounds on her skin. Danny no longer felt the crushing rage that had consumed her, didn’t feel the weird presence in her mind anymore.

    A car passed by, its bright headlights pulling her out of a daze. Danny stopped for a split second before following it towards the concrete jungle.

    The facility she was staying at for her treatments was a good few miles from the edge of New York. She was huffing, her breath condensing in the air around her. Danny didn’t know where she was heading; to whom she was going; why she even kept going. She just kept carrying on.

    A quarter mile into the heart of the New York City, she slowed. Honking cars, running engines, broken roads; crowds of residents and tourists, laughter and shouts and crying; the bright lights, the continuous murmurs of voices... Add it all up, and one gets a migraine.

    Danny absentmindedly walked along the busy sidewalks for a couple blocks. Her mind was thinking of fifty things at once, and normally it would give her a headache, but for once the thoughts didn’t. It was like she was having a disassociation from her own mind. And to think that she trusted the doctors at the facility to have changed her life for the _better_.

    Cancer treatment was all she had been asking for, not some happy-go-lucky experimentation getaway to get turned into a... whatever the hell that _thing_ was.

    “Watch it,” someone hissed when she bumped into them.

    Danny didn’t pay attention. Her thoughts were scrambling around one epiphany: _I need to find someone_. Someone who knew how to help, and knew what it was like to feel as if the world was backing you up against the wall. The problem was that she didn't know where to start. Danny held her head as more bystanders pushed past, each going different directions.

    To say that Danny’s had a rather traumatic life was an understatement. When she was incredibly young, her parents had been in a fatal car crash. She and her older brothers were sent into foster care; they fought hard to stay together. In the end, she was still taken from what semblance of family they had left. Danny vaguely remembered bouncing around in the system. She was sixteen-years-old when she was diagnosed with cancer, and when The Workshop approached her foster family with treatments, she was all but thrown through the gates of Hell.

    The young woman’s train of thought was cut short when someone rudely shoved Danny off to the side and out of their way, causing her to trip over herself and fall into the thick dirt in the mouth of an alley. It was quiet there. Except for the city sounds that continuously rebounded from the walls. Danny ran a delicate hand through her hair, and she finally saw the red stains on her skin.

     That was when the feeling came back – the feeling of anger, the instinct to kill. Danny felt her hazel-grey eyes burn as a rough shiver ran up her spine, and the small puddles of liquid in front of her glowed as her irises turned a sharply bright green. Those same eyes tracked the steps of the companion as Danny mounted her feet, the retractable claws itching to come out from the backs of her hands.

    Twenty minutes later, Danny found herself sitting on a discarded crate in the same alley; her expression passive; her eyes staring blankly down at her bloodied hands. Her arms started shaking involuntarily, and soon so did the rest of her body. She tried her best to ignore the corpse at the back end of the narrow street-end.

    Heightened senses introduced the thick, metallic smell of blood to her nose. She’s just killed someone. She’s murdered people. _Oh God._

    Danny began to gag, heaving what contents were left in her stomach. Her eyes watered. What the hell is happening to her? Was it all a nightmare? The _monster_ that was born from the recesses of her own mind – it had taken full control. She just... Danny was forced into the backseat of her mind and watched as she sought out the crazy, manic scientist like a predator would its prey.

    It came rushing back: Danny could remember watching as she ripped Dr. Reddik to shreds, watching the blood pool as his screams continued. The doctor was directly on Death's doorstep when he had the chance to shoot Danny at point-blank; the bullet just grazed her shoulder by an inch or two. Her muscle and skin slowly regenerated, healing itself and emitting disgusting sounds as it did so.

    Dr. Reddik's hoarse and cynical chuckle made Danny curious. His voice was like gravel as he spoke to her. "You have no idea what you’re capable of, Barton,” Reddik said, laughing the while. “You’re the world's next nuclear warhead."

    True hatred had made Danny glare at his nearly lifeless form. Another rush of white-hot rage had washed over her. With a swipe of a precise hand, bare shoulders stared at her. A _thump_ resounded in the newly empty and quiet room. Blood had stained the girl’s clothing. Something warm and wet had sprayed on her face, and the worst Danny feared was answered: More blood – _his_ blood.

    It was then that she came to her senses. Wide eyes stared at the mess of muscle and bone where Reddik’s head used to be. Danny’s hands flew to her mouth, smothering a scream as she regained control of her person. The claws had retracted; already-healing scars the only evidence of them ever being there. Danny was near tears as she forcefully shoved the door open with a strength she never had. Loud sirens and warning calls flooded her hearing.

    She ran. Danny bolted out of there like a flash, narrowly dodging a rain of bullets and maiming the guards running towards her direction. In the back of her mind, Danny felt pretty sure that an nineteen-year-old wasn’t physically able to run at such a speed, or bring down fully-grown men.

    Quickly finding a back stairwell, Danny made haste to get to ground level.

    With great fervor, she ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I would greatly appreciate any feedback and comments on this one!! The overall story would be mostly timeline-compliant starting from Iron Man so buckle in, y'all


	2. Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was broken from a young age  
> Taking my sulking to the masses  
> Write down my poems for the few  
> That looked at me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me  
> Singing from heartache from the pain”  
> \- Imagine Dragons

Danny didn’t remember how she made it to the emergency entrance to the hospital. There were people everywhere, doctors and nurses and patients alike. Bodies were occupying beds, some worse off than others.

    Her limbs were heavy, and her head was spinning, and the blood felt dry and crusty on her skin. She was drained of all her energy. You wouldn’t believe she ran miles to the city without breaking a sweat if you saw her now. Danny kept herself balanced against the door and walls, almost running on auto-pilot. One foot in front of the other. God, did her head hurt.

    “Ma’am?” One of the ER nurses slowly approached her, concern etched into her features. Her brown hair was tied up in a messy bun, and her brown eyes searched Danny’s hazel-grey ones urgently. “Ma’am, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

    Danny met the nurse’s gaze blankly. She wasn’t hurting, not anymore, but she probably looked like fucking hell. Her body was healing ever so slowly. She was _fine_. But her mind was splitting, and her knees buckled from under her somehow, and the next thing she knew the nurse was catching her before she could hit the ground.

    The nurse slowly eased Danny to the floor. “Heather, get a bed ready!” she called out to a co-worker. Even in her dazed state, Danny’s eyes caught on the nurse’s ID clipped onto her scrubs: Claire Temple. Metro-General.

    Danny didn’t realize she was being asked questions until she heard a soft, “Is there anyone I can call?”

    “Stark –” Danny croaked. She swallowed, feeling the dryness of her throat for the first time. Wincing, Danny groaned as a sharp pain began stabbing at the back of her head and the backs of her hands where the metal claws had come out started to itch. “Uh, Stark Industries. Pepper Potts, she’s… my…”

    A wave of vertigo washed over her, and Danny felt like she could throw up again. Except that she hadn’t eaten much since yesterday because of Reddik’s dumb fucking fasting requirements, and she had retched anything she had in her back in the alley.

    “Ma’am, what’s your name? Do you know where you are?”

    The world continued spinning and Danny welcomed the darkness like an old friend.

~*~*~*~

Pepper Potts’s life had been in absolute chaos ever since Tony Stark was taken two months ago. The thing was, she had trusted the military with him. It was _Afghanistan_ during a true civil unrest. She had trusted James Rhodes to bring Tony back, but everything had gone to shit.

    She told herself that she didn’t blame them. Not entirely – it was just easier to point fingers at _someone_ , and it just so happened to be the U.S. Air Force. Rhodey said they lost some guys, and Tony’s missing in action, and they’ve been searching for _so long_.

    Was she even still employed? She’s supposed to be Tony’s personal assistant, but there was no Tony to personally assist. Obadiah Stane has been maneuvering the company since February now. (Word has it he’s been maneuvering the company since before the untimely deaths of both Howard and Maria Stark, but that wasn’t of concern to Pepper much.)

    Her phone had stopped ringing every five minutes about a month after Tony’s kidnapping. It was a news cycle turnover, and there was no new update to be given. He was still missing, and the world just kept turning. She was slightly relieved of the fact, despite the lingering worry.

    Which was why Pepper had jumped at her phone when it rang at an ungodly hour, because who would call at one in the morning unless it was an emergency? Her mind vaguely registered the New York area code before picking up because _it has to be about Tony, they’ve found him, dead or alive, but preferably alive –_

    “Virginia Potts speaking.”

    The call wasn’t about Tony. The call was about a teenage girl walking into a hospital in the middle of the night looking like Death had come for her. No name, no identification, nothing except for _Stark Industries. Pepper Potts._ She had almost hung up until she remembered the little girl that she’d fostered years ago; the one who loved calling her “Gigi” and loved Rocky Road ice cream; the one that trouble always seemed to follow.

    Pepper requested for wheels up first thing in the morning.

~*~*~*~

“How is she doing?”

    “Frankly, we don’t…” A heavy pause was all Danny could hear. “We’re all shocked, really. She’s in perfect condition this morning. It’s like nothing was wrong.”

    “What – what do you _mean_?” That voice… That voice was so _familiar_. “Wasn’t she just admitted last night? Your nurse made her condition sound serious –”

    Danny couldn’t quite remember everything that happened to her. She recalled escaping the lab, the dead bodies she left behind. She recalled the innocent life she had taken away, in the alley. There were parts of the night that were a blur, mostly the instances when… _something else_ had taken the reins.

    At the hospital, she had accidentally injured one of the nurses. Being so disoriented and scared, Danny’s first instincts were to defend herself when she woke up in a strange place, with smells and sounds that made her think that she was back in that godforsaken place. The nurse, Claire, had thrown back the curtains and startled her, and that resulted in some screaming after Danny’s sharp claws had cut up her forearms.

    (They thought Danny had brandished a knife or managed to nick a scalpel, but confusion was all they discovered when they searched her. They had tried sedating her afterwards because _sure, definitely, why not_.)

    Her doctor was dumbfounded when she received a follow-up in the late morning. All injuries Danny had sustained were healed in the morning, and whatever they found was science fiction to them. Of course, Danny had an idea of what they saw. She only hoped that they wouldn’t subject her to more unnecessary tests and more doctors with agendas. Danny was finished with being a lab rat.

    She had seen the vials and the stacks of files in Reddik’s office; she had _lived_ through the hell that he had put her through. Danny sussed out pretty early in her treatments that some of the files may have been stolen. Not one folder had the same label. From what little she could remember, they ran from S.H.I.E.L.D., S.S.R., C.I.A., F.B.I., Cybertek. She’d never even heard of half of them.

    Something fairly secretive was going on, even at the hospital. While the doctor assumed she was asleep, Danny listened in on a phone conversation he had with a “Director” about wanting to keep an eye on her and also bury all the tests they had administered. She felt like kicking herself now. She was _so stupid_ —

    “Is she awake?”

    Danny sat up in bed, eyes landing on the two human-shaped shadows dancing on the curtain that separated her from the rest of the world. Blood started pumping faster through her veins, and Danny tried to calm her nerves before something bad happened.

    Her doctor said in a quiet voice, “She was responsive when we checked on her this morning. I’m not sure if…”

    The curtains were pulled back, revealing the form of Pepper Potts. The same one that Danny hadn’t talked to since before her cancer diagnosis but was still there despite the radio silence. She was dressed clean in a skirt and blazer, red hair tied back in a neat ponytail. There were dark bags under her reddened eyes that were hastily covered up with concealer, and Danny briefly wondered why she’d been crying.

    Pepper’s expression immediately switched from worry to relief. Danny found herself pulled into a tight hug, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself break down. She wrapped her arms around her old foster mom and began sobbing.

    “Honey, were you hurt? What happened?” Pepper began wiping away the tears that kept staining Danny’s cheeks. The girl tried getting out words, but they were unintelligible over her heavy sobs. Pepper merely engulfed her in another hug, brushing back her light brown hair.

    The doctor cleared his throat, starting, “We haven’t been able to get anything from her –”

    “Leave us. Please,” Pepper said firmly, more than likely giving an apologetic look.

    After managing to work through the wracking sobs, Danny let the walls fall. With words flowing like a broken dam that had just burst, she told Pepper everything. From falling out of touch with her brothers. Never staying in one place for more than a few months. To the struggle of chemotherapy. Then being approached by some agent to join this organization for a supposed cure.

    For almost three years, she was stuck in that facility in the outskirts of New York and isolated from the outside world. Danny spared Pepper the details about the monstrous treatments, the numerous near-death experiments, and the pile of bodies she left behind. She wanted to tell her everything, so badly, but the second voice in her head convinced her that it wouldn’t be wise.

    But it wasn’t until then that Danny realized Pepper had problems of her own. Things were a shit show at Stark Industries. Their CEO had been kidnapped after a weapons demonstration was ambushed, and he was probably being held captive by some terrorist organization. His business partner, someone by the name of Stane or other, was keeping the company afloat in his absence. However, Danny could tell that Pepper was worried out of her mind.

    Danny sniffed, wiping her eyes and looking at Pepper. In attempt to make light of things, she asked in jest, “It’s been so long since we saw each other. Why the hell did you fly across the country for me? I probably would’ve been fine. I’ve been fine, for a while.”

    Lies, but Pepper knew that all too well.

    Pepper exhaled a laugh, trying to cover the tears that were brimming at her eyes. “Danny, you’re a nineteen-year-old that has been to hell and back. And, to be honest, I needed this as much as you do.”

    Danny’s warm hands covered Pepper’s cold ones, and the former managed a small smile. “Thank you, Gigi. For everything.”

    She closed her eyes as Pepper leaned forward to place a kiss to her forehead, momentarily feeling a sense of peace that she hadn’t been witness to in a long time.

~*~*~*~

Nicolas J. Fury never believed in coincidences. In his line of work, that sort of thing didn’t even exist. When Alexander Pierce had appointed him as Director many years ago, best believe the man had seen some shit as a senior agent: Intergalactic warfare that involved superhuman beings and alien races from other galaxies. A blue cube that was lost after World War II which was then stored relatively safe inside an alien that looked like a motherfucking cat.

    (Not coincidentally, that was the last time Fury had ever trusted any kind of animal.)

    SHIELD had been getting involved in a lot of things over the last few years. A notable scientist working with the U. S. government’s Bio-Tech Enhancement Project miraculously survived radiation poisoning and now turns into some big, green monster. One of SHIELD’s master assassins was injured trying to escort a nuclear scientist out of Iran. A young covert agent has phased in and out of reality because of some quantum anomaly, because that’s such a normal thing going on around the agency.

    There was no time for unknown electronic surges coming from facilities outside of New York, or miniature blips in the airspace in Afghanistan; that was what his agents were getting paid for. Let’s just say that Fury had his hands full with paperwork and covert operations across the board.

    Sitwell notified him when a signal appeared in the general vicinity that Tony Stark was last seen abroad. “It’s too small to be a one-man craft,” he had said, staring confused at the radar. “And it’s got an energy signature like I’ve _never_ seen before.” Whatever it may have been was the first and only lead they had on finding the genius billionaire, so they reached out to the U. S. Department of Defense. Last he heard, Stark was rescued by the Armed Forces and was on his way to a CIA location in Germany for debrief.

    Fury never believed in coincidences. Not when his old Cold War missions all started with the letter “B.” Not when he met Carol Danvers and somehow got the Tesseract back for the agency. Not last week, when a hospital liaison had informed him about a girl who seemed to have super-healing powers and claws in her goddamn arms. _Claws_. Almost nothing surprised him anymore.

    Almost.

    “You sent for me, sir?” Clint Barton’s head popped into the office. He was dressed in his usual uniform: cargo pants, vest, and jacket. Must have been ready to go on an ops run.

    The Director motioned him in, starting with, “Take a seat, Agent Barton.” When Barton sat in the chair opposite him, Fury nonchalantly reached for a folder on his desk. “I’m giving you a new assignment,” he stated firmly. “We need someone evaluated, and I couldn’t think of anyone better to be the case agent.”

    The man’s brow furrowed slightly. Already he seemed wary of the situation. “Right, of course. ‘Cause the last time I was sent to assess someone, it ended _so well_ for us.”

     Budapest was still fresh in their minds despite the time that had passed, but if it wasn’t for Barton, they wouldn’t have Natasha Romanoff on their side. Fury huffed, forgoing a snide comment to Barton’s own, sliding the dossier across the desk.

    “I think you’ll find this one to be of interest,” was all the Director said, eyes trained on the master archer to gauge his reaction. Barton’s facial expression immediately turned stone cold when his eyes landed on the profile. Fury watched as he blinked every so slowly.

    “This is a joke, right?” Barton all but spat, frowning. His grip was so tight on the folder that his knuckles began to turn white. “If this is some sort of _test_ , it’s sick even for –”

    “Keep reading.”

    Fury wasn’t expecting _anger_ to be the first emotion from Barton. Confusion, maybe. Disbelief, absolutely. But _anger_ seemed such a foreign concept to be emanating from him. Barton shook his head slightly, sighing in defeat. His eyes flew back and forth across the dossier pages, his brows pushing together the more he read.

    In the folder were curated SHIELD files on the girl from the hospital; she was nineteen, orphaned, with a long list of foster homes and stellar academics and medical summaries. Her photograph was an old high school ID from nearly three years ago: blonde waves, bright smile. There was a note in her family history section about blood-type anomalies, but the pressing matter involved the x-ray of what lay hidden in her forearms and the string of bodies found in her wake.

    Barton stuttered out, “This can’t – no – there’s no way –” He threw the dossier onto the Director’s desk.

    “How are you so sure? You haven’t seen her in over a decade.”

    “Respectfully, sir, _you’re shitting me, right?_ That is not – that _cannot_ be my sister.”

    “Do you believe in coincidences, Barton?” Fury inquired to steer the conversation, narrowing his visible eye. “Because I don’t. So, explain to me how the sister that you lost _just so happens_ to turn up with powers and a connection to Tony Stark, two weeks before he’s found?”

    “I can’t –”

    “Precisely.” Fury leaned forward, linking his fingers together. “Which is why you’re going to investigate.”

    The muscles at his jaw visibly tightened as the light-brown haired man clenched his teeth together. “Isn’t Coulson running point on the Stark case?”

    “He is,” Fury responded. “You’re going to be running point on this one.”

    “Where am I even supposed to find her?” Barton questioned. “Said she got discharged from the hospital –”

    “– under the care of Virginia Potts. Lucky for us, the Starks are local.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is sort of a filler chapter. Hope y'all enjoyed the backstory here lol. More exciting things will happen soon enough! Comments and feedback are always appreciated


	3. Hey Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey brother! Do you still believe in one another?  
> Hey sister! Do you still believe in love? I wonder  
> Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you  
> There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do”  
> \- Avicii

Despite sleeping in arguably the most comfortable bed on the face of the planet, Danny couldn’t help waking up from night terrors. Cold sweats and racing heartbeats plagued her almost nightly. There were a lot of things to get her head wrapped around; one of which was the sad realization that she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in _years_.

    It would always be the same nightmares, mere flashes of the hell she went through at The Workshop. The injections of serums that were likely stolen; the intense radiation therapy; drowning in a tank of gamma residue; the surgery that she was knocked out for; the fucking _coma_ she was put in. Every little thing had, for lack of better term, given her powers beyond imagination. Every little thing that Danny had been put through made her wish for the sweet release of death, but it seemed even that was something she may never have.

    Danny found herself sitting up in bed in the middle of the night, staring at her hands. The comforter and sheets were shredded, likely the result of her claws coming out subconsciously while she slept. She ran her fingers through her hair, slightly damp from sweat. Her chest felt heavy, and Danny knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. Looking at the mess around her, the nineteen-year-old decided to take the ruined sheets and bring them to the laundry room.

    That is, if she could _find_ it. The mansion in New York City felt expansive this late at night. Pepper had put her up in Tony Stark’s old family residence after she was discharged from the hospital a little over a week ago, if only to help her get back onto her feet. Danny refused at first, not wanting to feel like a burden, but Pepper was adamant.

    “I feel weird about it,” Danny had confessed to her on that first night. “I’ll go to a motel; I really don’t mind.”

    Pepper had the nerve to look offended. “You’ve literally just been discharged from the hospital after going through _God knows what_. What kind of person would I be to let you fend for yourself like that?”

    Where was she going to go anyway? She had no parents, no way to find her brothers. But of course, Pepper was too nice to point that out.

    It took a bit of time to find the laundry room, and even longer still to find the linen closet to replace her sheets. Danny shook her head at herself, imagining the reaction coming from Stark when he finds some poor kid that just so happened to ruin his favorite set of duvets. Then she frowned, remembering that he was still missing and could be dead for all anyone knew. The thought left a sour taste to her mouth.

    As Danny made her way back to the guest bedroom, her eyes lingered on the light that came from under a door that she had missed the first time. Against her better judgment, she approached it curiously. The door opened silently, revealing a staircase that led to what Danny assumed was the basement.

    “Ms. Barton?”

    “Oh, _Jesus_ , fuck!” Danny nearly jumped out of her skin, freezing halfway down the steps and dropping the sheets. She felt her pulse beating something fierce in her ears. Attempting to catch her breath, she said, “Hey, uh, JARVIS? Can you please give me a head’s up next time?”

    “My apologies.” There was a pause as she picked up the sheets and continued her way down, marveling at the workshop housed in the Starks’ basement.

    There was half-finished tech across the workbenches, tools hanging around, and a robot chilling in the corner. Danny’s eyes were wide with wonder as she walked around the lab, and her fingers dithered across the surface of the tables. She picked up a prototype of a red, white, and blue shield.

    JARVIS spoke up again. “Ms. Barton, I don’t believe you’re authorized to be loitering inside Mr. Stark’s lab.”

    “Are these all of his?” Danny ignored the statement, filing through stacks of old blueprints and folders. “And they’re just… sitting here?”

    “These are his father, Howard Stark’s work,” JARVIS answered. “I do believe that they have remained relatively untouched since his death.”

    Danny made her way around one of the workbenches, finding boxes of scraps and tools haphazardly strewn about. She picked up a Flathead screwdriver and rolled it in her palm. “Do you think Mr. Stark would be mad if I used his lab to tinker with some stuff?”

    JARVIS quipped, “We could always give Ms. Potts a ring.”

    “It’s late,” she responded. “I don’t want to disturb her.”

    Her eyes roved the scene once more, marveling at the tech that would never see the light of day. _The place should be turned into some kind of museum_ , Danny thought to herself. _Howard Stark literally gave the world the atom bomb_. History was probably made in this very lab and she’s just… _here_.

    Danny began reminiscing about her younger teen years while she was still in foster care. She never stayed with a family as long as she had stayed with Pepper, and she bounced around a lot in high school. Sometimes she got into fights and sometimes her foster family got sick of her.

    One of her families had enrolled her into a supposedly gifted school in New Jersey. There she had pursued sciences and entered competitions for computer science and engineering. Danny probably could have gone to a good university if she wasn’t expelled for standing up to a bully (go figure) and if her lymphoma diagnosis hadn’t landed her in The Workshop for the better part of three years.

    Danny found an old stool and dusted it off before taking a seat.

    “I don’t think it would be wise to –”

    “I promise not to mess with Mr. Stark’s other things, JARVIS, just…” Her eyes looked up and around the room, knowing that the artificial intelligence was watching over her. “Do me a solid?”

    She’s only interacted with JARVIS for one week. Pepper had given her general access to the house – the _mansion_ – and the AI had been good company considering. A few heartbeats passed before JARVIS responded with, “Very well, Ms. Barton.”

~*~*~*~

“ _Are you sure you’re going to be okay at the house for a while?_ ”

    The spoon in Danny’s hand clinked along the sides of her cereal bowl. “Pepper, you know I haven’t been in a place this nice in my entire life,” she started. Taking a bite, Danny spoke mid-chew. “Plus, I was able to make some things down in the lab over the last week –”

    “ _You went into Tony’s lab? Danny, I thought I told you – !_ ”

    “I swear I didn’t touch his project things!”

    Pepper sighed audibly on the other line, and Danny shrunk in her seat. “ _Alright, alright. Just, please, try not to mess with anything else_.”

    “I promise,” Danny said, hoping Pepper could hear the sincerity in her voice. “I won’t get into any more trouble. Don’t worry about me.”

    She turned the speaker up on her phone, getting up to place her empty bowl in the kitchen sink. After a beat, Danny said, “I heard on the news that they finally found Mr. Stark. Is he going to be okay?”

    “ _He’s being evaluated right now and probably being interrogated by every agency out there – What is it, Happy?_ ” Pepper pulled the receiver away from her mouth to talk to Stark’s head of security. Danny waited patiently for them to stop speaking. “ _Danny, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you soon. Call me if_ –”

    “– if there’s an emergency or it’s the end of the world,” Danny finished, shaking her head. “I know, I remember. Take care, Pep.”

    “ _Bye, honey_.”

    Danny ended the call, looking at her reflection in the black mirror that she held in the palm of her hand. She put down the phone and made her way to the lavish living room of Stark’s mansion. God, she could never imagine living a life of luxury like this.

    “JARVIS, can you please turn on the news?”

    But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t _enjoy_ it while it lasted.

    As she watched the news broadcaster report on the military unit finding Tony Stark in the desert, Danny couldn’t help but to wonder what kinds of horrors he had gone through while being held captive. Some of the blurry photographs and videos they were parading of Stark probably didn’t even show the extent of his injuries or diminished health. The rumor mill had been going since he landed in Germany; it seemed like every news channel was reporting on him being questioned.

    Her mind drifted, and it wasn’t long before Danny had questions of her own. His life story, his alliances, his role in the weapons industry. Did he even R&D most of his own technology? Danny muted the television and asked, “JARVIS, what are you?”

    A moment passed before the disembodied voice answered, “I am just a rather very intelligent system.”

    She made a face at that, slowly processing the dumb acronym. “Who created you?”

    “Mr. Stark did,” the AI responded. “He modeled me after their late butler, Edwin Jarvis, quite some time after the deaths of – _his – par…ents_ –” JARVIS’s voice modulated, almost as if it was being shut down. Danny sat up, alert. “My security protocol appears to have been breached.”

    An alert popped up on the corner of the television screen, saying that the motion sensors in the front courtyard had been tripped.

    The doorbell rang, echoing slightly in the nearly empty mansion. A chill ran through Danny’s body. Her eyes flickered over to the foyer across the room, following the form of a person as their body cast a shadow through the frosted glass. She asked the AI, “JARVIS, who’s at the door?”

    “It is a man. Unfortunately, my facial recognition software has malfunctioned.”

    “Fucking great,” Danny muttered to herself. It was right to feel cautious; Pepper had never told her about a visitor coming. She looked around the area looking for something to defend herself with when she realized, momentarily, that she was literally a living weapon.

    As Danny approached the front door, another ring of the doorbell was followed by knocking. She made a fist with her left hand, consciously forcing the Adamantium-coated claws to come out. For a brief moment, Danny felt the bones in her hands shift and felt the burn of her skin as they tore through. She merely winced through the pain.

    With her right hand on the doorknob, Danny prepared herself.

    “Hello?” The voice came muffled through the door. “Is anyone home?”

    Danny froze. _Holy shit. That voice sounds just like…_

    “My name is Clint Barton,” he called out. “I’m looking for my sister, Daniela. Someone named Virginia Potts says she was staying here?”

    _Holy_ and _shit_ were the only two words running through Danny’s head. Her claws slid back into her forearm. She stood frozen with her hand on the knob, unsure on what to do.

    “If this is a bad time, I could come –”

    Danny all but threw the door open just then. Her eyes landed on the form of a man in his late-twenties, with short cropped hair, wearing dark wash jeans and a button-up. If it weren’t for his eyes, Danny probably wouldn’t have recognized her brother.

    “Clint?” His name came out as a shaky whisper, given she was trying so hard not to cry. It was her brother. _Her big brother_.

    The man standing at the door looked at her with a blank expression, confused. Slowly, recognition came to his eyes as well. “Danny?” he said, incredulous. Clint looked her up and down in disbelief, almost in shock that the little girl – the same little girl that had been taken away almost twelve years ago – was standing right in front of him. He took a few steps forward, pulling her into the tightest hug she had ever been given in her life. She hugged him back just as hard, crying into his shirt and hoping for all there was that she wasn’t dreaming.

    Neither of them knew when it happened, but eventually they ended up on their knees at the door’s threshold. Rivers of tears were streaming down their cheeks, and heavy sobs landed in Danny’s chest like she was drowning in her own cries. Clint was the first to pull away, trying to wipe away Danny’s tears with the pads of his thumbs. “You… you’ve gotten so big,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. “You’re an adult. My God.”

    Through lessening sobs, Danny let out a humorless laugh. “Fuck – Clint, I thought – you were – dead.”

    He sniffed, using the back of his hand to wipe his face. Clint looked his sister in the eye, saying, “Danny, I am so fucking sorry.”

    “What are you – sorry for?”

    “For not looking for you harder.”

    Danny held back a light sob, shoving his shoulder. “You’re here. That’s… all that matters.” She wiped the wetness from her cheeks away, pulling herself to her feet. Both Bartons picked themselves up and moved to the kitchen, sitting at the island counter. Danny’s hands were still shaking, and Clint reached across to envelop them between his. “Where’s Barney?” were the next words out of her mouth.

    Clint’s expression hardened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I honestly don’t know,” he answered. “Last I heard he had joined the army, but we didn’t really stay in touch too much, after…”

    The room got quiet. Neither of them wanted to remember the day they were separated; a day when the remnants of their small family were torn apart. But Danny knew that it was ingrained in their minds; there was no way to forget something so scarring.

    “What have you been doing, over the last few years?” Clint asked finally, breaking the silence.

    Danny swallowed, unsure how much she wanted to unload on him. She didn’t know what to say, for the life of her, but she had to start somewhere. “I’d bounced around the system a lot. Pepper was my first foster mom when we got separated, stayed with her while she interned at Stark’s company.”

    Clint’s brows furrowed. “Pepper?”

    “Virginia Potts,” she clarified. “After she got promoted, she was almost never home so I had to go back in.” Danny’s gaze stayed on their joined hands, her mind still reeling about the brief reunion with her brother. “It was good, for a while,” she finished.

    “I tried looking you up, you know.” He avoided her eye contact, looking guilty. The expression forced deep wrinkles in his forehead. “But a few years ago, it was like – like you went off the grid, or something.”

    A prominent frown fixed itself on Danny’s lips. She knew why. Yet she didn’t know how to break it to him. Danny ground her teeth together, pulling her hands away from Clint’s grasp. “I was…” She let out a shaky sigh.

    Starting over again, Danny explained, “I had a cancer diagnosis halfway through high school. In 2006, my foster parents let me get taken in by an organization that promised to – to cure it.”

    Clint’s jaw dropped, and a quiet “oh, my God” graced his lips. His hands closed into fists, the muscles in his jaw then going taut.

    Danny laid out, “I was diagnosed when I was sixteen, but I was sick for months before. There was this weird guy that approached us one day at the hospital, talking about this place that would work to cure my lymphoma.” She dared to look at her brother then, whose brows were knitted together and whose mouth was pressed into a thin line.

    She continued, “I guess they were tired of having a sick kid, so I went to The Workshop and…”

    “Wait.” Clint had a hand over his mouth, shielding his full expression from her. “You had an incurable cancer? Well – Are you still sick? What the fuck happened?”

    Danny opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out. What exactly was she going to say to him? _The scientists did illegal experiments on me and created a monster, but yeah, I’m cured?_ Clint wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t.

    _Don’t tell him anything_.

    She jumped upon hearing the intrusive voice in her head. It was the same one that would seep into her train of thought, the same one that seemed to take over her actions whenever she would lose control of herself. Her action was enough to make Clint visibly on edge, and Danny noticed.

    “Danny, what’s wrong?”

    “It’s – I’m okay.”

    He went around and tried to place a hand on her shoulder. But Danny flinched away, knocking herself out of the stool, just barely catching herself. Concern was etched into Clint’s features, and unbeknownst to her, he reached for something tucked at the back of his waistband. In a much softer voice, he said, “C’mon, talk to me.”

    She backed away from him, her heart racing, continuing the clenching and unclenching of her fists. Danny was more scared than angry; afraid of herself, and the things she’s capable of doing. “Stop,” she whispered, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it.

    _He will only hurt us_ , the Voice uttered.

    ”Won’t. He’s my brother.” Danny spread out her fingers, holding her hands at her sides. Her eyes started to burn, and she shut them immediately, knowing the color of her irises were changing to that bright green. She took another step back, fighting to remain in control. Her cheeks became wet again – was she crying? She pleaded to the Voice in her head, “Just – stop –"

    Clint reached out for her again, one hand staying steady and hidden at his side. “Danny? Hey. Whatever’s going on, let me help –"

    “ _No!_ ” Her voice was overlain with another, angrier, more sinister tone. She opened her eyes, keeping her gaze down and avoiding his. Danny could feel, ever so slowly, her resolve being chipped away. “Clint – no, no – I don’t want to _hurt_ –” Her eyes caught sight of the thing Clint held in his grasp. It took a split second to process the sight of the military issued gun before the Voice took over completely.

    _Weapon._

    The events happened in slow motion: One moment her guard was up, and the claws had ripped through her skin, and the next Clint’s gun was aimed at her heart.

    Then, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is a little lengthier, and I hope y'all enjoyed the snippets of multiple POVs (lmk if it starts to get confusing at all)


	4. Renegade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh Mama, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law  
> Lawman has put an end to my running, and I'm so far from my home  
> Oh Mama, I can hear you a-cryin', you're so scared and all alone  
> Hangman is comin' down from the gallows, and I don't have very long”  
> \- Styx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is a super-long filler chapter. Some would dare say, exposition dump. But I figured this was the best way to establish the rest of this fanon. More Tony-centric stuff will be coming soon!

Danny wasn’t exactly sure how long she had been unconscious. When she came to, she was met by blinding fluorescent lights coming down from the ceiling. She moved to brush her hair from her face before noticing an arm had been handcuffed to the bed.

    It felt as if something ice cold had been shot through her veins. Panic. Then, a sound – a voice – surprised her by saying, “Oh. We weren’t sure when you’d wake up.”

    Danny abruptly sat up in the bed. Much to her chagrin, one of the dark and honeycombed walls had opened to reveal a hidden port opening. She stared down the bald man standing at the entrance. He was dressed in a dark gray suit, pressed like some corporate douchebag. “Who the hell are you?” Danny asked, hoping her voice seemed firm and not at all afraid. She tried once more to pull at the cuff digging into her wrist.

    “My name is Agent Jasper Sitwell,” he answered. “I’m with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

    _You’ve got to be fucking kidding me._ “Would you believe I recognize the name?” she asked rhetorically, thinking back to the old files that Dr. Reddik had back at The Workshop. Danny held back a potentially cynical laugh, shaking her head.

    The man pushed dark-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose before tucking a black folder under his arm. “Then as you may know, we’re an extra-governmental military, counter-terrorism, and intelligence agency,” he elaborated, taking a cautious step into the room. “I know you must have a lot of questions, but –”

    “Where am I?” Danny shot out, interrupting his spiel.

    “We’re currently in our headquarters, in New York City.”

    Danny glared at Agent Sitwell, inhaling slowly. Her chest still hurt from whatever the hell Clint had shot her with, and she was mildly surprised that she felt it. _Clint had shot her_. Lowly, she asked, “Where’s my brother?”

    Sitwell reached for a chair that was up against the far wall, and he placed it at the foot of Danny’s bed. He sat, gave a forced smile, and then opened the file folder. “Look, Ms. Barton,” he started, “I don’t want you to be here any more than _you_ want to be here. We’ve just got some assessments to go through, to make sure you’re fit to be added to our Index.”

    “Assessments?” Danny spat out, her eyes narrowing. She raised her arm as much as she could, giving a pointed look to the agent. “I have one for you: You’ve got me cuffed to a bed.”

    “I suppose you won’t be going anywhere any time soon, then,” Sitwell mused, looking down at the papers. “Sorry, bad joke. It’s… merely a precaution on our part.”

    Huffing once more, Danny asked again, “Where is my brother?”

    “Probably having an audience with our Director. Agent Barton was supposed to be doing this Index Asset Evaluation and Intake report, but he didn’t have the heart.” Sitwell’s eyes flickered up to Danny, and he did a double take. Off of her look of confusion, he gave a wry smile. “He never told you?”

    _What the hell is this guy talking about?_ Danny’s eyes narrowed once more. “Frankly, we didn’t get a chance to catch up much before he _shot me_.”

    “Your brother is one of our finest agents,” Sitwell said, acting like he didn’t hear her snide comment. “Director Fury tasked him with bringing in… well, _you_.”

    The Voice in her head spoke up for the first time since regaining consciousness. _He is lying_.

    Danny tried to hide the shiver that went through her body. “How do I know you’re not lying?” she muttered, taking slow breaths to calm herself.

    “We were given a call from Metro-General Hospital about a woman who had come in with multiple injuries, and fully healed the next morning.”

    Danny did remember overhearing her doctor on the phone with someone; never in a million years would she have considered this turn of events. Flashes of dead, bloody bodies came to memory. Dryly, she said, “I’m sure that wasn’t the only call you got that night, Agent Sitwell.”

    “No. No, it wasn’t.” Sitwell filed through some papers before pulling one out. He sat back and looked Danny in the eye. “Do you mind answering some questions for me, Ms. Barton?”

    “Depends. Do I have much of a choice?” She rattled the handcuff again. Sitwell’s only response was a blank stare.

    “You were a little hard to find after discharge,” Sitwell deliberated, giving her a look. “Fortunately, Ms. Potts did sign you out. Even your brother found it surprising that you had ties with Stark Industries, considering –”

    “Leave her out of this,” she said. For some reason, she didn’t trust him any more than she could throw him (which, with the new super strength, was probably far). But on God, if Pepper somehow found out about her… _condition_ … “I’ll answer anything you want.”

    “As you wish.”

    Danny should be kicking herself right now. She had fallen for his ruse, dangling a threat to Pepper to get her to talk. If she wasn’t still on-edge, she might have been impressed.

    Sitwell’s eyes scanned the contents of his file. He started, “Anna Daniela Barton. Born May 26, 1989, to Edith and Harry Barton. Says here your only remaining family members consist of your eldest brother, Charles, and Agent Clint Barton.”

    Danny blinked a few times, not believing her ears. _Barney’s really still alive then._

    He continued, not having noticed Danny’s change of demeanor. “Parents died in ’93, after which you and your brothers were placed under foster care?”

    “Uh – yes. Briefly,” Danny muttered, taking a second to realize he was asking for confirmation. “I remember going ‘round with a circus for a while.”

    “Agent Barton noted that you were taken from them after four years. What happened?”

    Danny’s eyes scanned the room once more, noting the single surveillance camera at the far corner of the ceiling. She swallowed, shifting her sitting position. “I’m not entirely sure. I was, like, eight. Social services turned me over to this orphanage called Saint Agnes. Pepper Potts fostered me for a few years after, but you probably already knew that.”

    “And you went back into the system?” The agent scribbled notes at the margins of his papers, and all Danny could do was watch in silence. “You were enrolled in five different schools between the years of ’97 and ’05?”

    Danny frowned. _Jesus, what kind of fucking agency is this?_ Warily, she asked, “What’s that got to do with this evaluation, or whatever?”

    “We’re just trying to figure out a timeline. Iron out some kinks,” Sitwell answered lamely, which only irritated Danny more. He sifted through a couple more papers. “Your third set of foster parents pulled you out of school before your senior year, right?”

    Danny’s eyes fell, brows knitting together. The high fevers, the chest pains; being symptomatic for months – it all came back, and it made her angry. “Yes,” she replied bitterly.

    “How did you end up with your… your abilities, I should say?”

    Now _that_ was a question which she was half-expecting.

    “Cliff notes version? I got cancer. Some assholes came knocking, saying they were working on a cure. They figured I was the right candidate for their horrible experiments…”

    “Right.” Sitwell nodded thoughtfully, crossing one leg over the other. “An orphaned kid with cancer, and shitty foster parents that didn’t want the responsibility. If anything went wrong, there wouldn’t be much of a problem. Until…” He leaned forward cautiously, placing photographs at the foot of the bed. Three photos appeared to be from a morgue prior to autopsy, picturing a headless scientist, a lacerated assistant, and dead security guards; the last was a grossly disfigured woman evidenced in an alley. “These. Do you recognize them?”

    Of course, she did. Danny recognized them all. Their blood was on _her_ hands, whether or not she was in the right mind. She felt her eyes moisten with tears and looked away, her frown deepening. It was all the confirmation that Sitwell needed.

    “What did they do to you?”

    _Upset_ was a word that truly underestimated the hurt she was feeling. Memories of The Workshop had only haunted her dreams, but now SHIELD was tainting her reality too. Danny’s voice broke as she asked him, “Why are you doing this?”

    “What happened with the experiments?” Sitwell pressed, picking up the photo of Reddik’s corpse. He held it to where she could see. “What did _he_ do to you, Barton?”

    Danny took in a shaky breath. _Don’t you dare,_ the Voice started. _Tell him, and just watch how fast he neutralizes us_. Her eyes met Agent Sitwell’s, and she couldn’t read his expression. Was he scared, or determined? Would she kill him?

    What the hell did Clint get himself into?

    Finally, Danny cleared her throat, beginning, “I spent months on chemo before they started putting me on gamma radiation.”

    Agent Sitwell perked up at her answer, straightening up. “What kind of gamma? Like with the army’s Bio-Tech? That’s highly classified information.”

    Danny merely shrugged. “They’d stolen a shit ton of redacted research from government agencies – you guys included, from what I can remember.”

    “Noted.”

    “I, uh…” Danny hesitated. She started wringing her hands; the backs of them where the claws would come out were aching.

    In a surprising gesture, Sitwell said, “Take your time.”

    Danny’s eyes flickered up to the camera. She wondered if her brother was watching. If he was, why the hell wasn’t he helping her get out?

    “There were injections from vials. Blood transfusions, probably –”

    “What were they?”

    “Blue shit and blood plasma? I don’t know. All I know is, I was… getting better. Stronger. They…” Danny looked at her palms, balling her hands into fists. “I remember overhearing Reddik talking with one of the other scientists about… a born-again program –”

    “Project Rebirth?” he suggested. Sitwell was tense, she could tell.

    Danny managed a glance up at him before staring down again. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “sounds familiar.”

    Sitwell shut his folder, putting both soles on the ground, and leaned forward on his elbows. “What else do you remember?”

    She shook her head, frowning. “Nothing much more about that. He always talked to himself, but he usually said nonsense about trying to activate or mutate a gene, or something.”

    “Did he?”

    “Did he, what?”

    “Activate a gene?” Sitwell clarified, almost scrutinizing her. The tone in his voice made her think he was putting dots together, while she was still in the dark about it all.

    “Not to be rude, agent, but how long is this going to – ?”

    “As long as it takes,” he responded harshly. “Did he _cure_ you?”

    “If he did, he almost killed me to do it.” Danny hated digging up the hell she had gone through. She hated having nightmares about it. But she also knew that she had a better chance of getting out from under this guy’s microscope if she cooperated. “There were these few days where I thought I was as good as dead, nearly drowned in a tank. I don’t remember shit except for him excited about… ‘bonding with DNA from Weapon X’?”

    Sitwell placed another photo on the bed. This one was different – an x-ray image of someone’s arm, with what looked like metal spikes coming along the forearm. It took Danny an embarrassingly long time to realize whose it was. “Care to explain these?” he asked, raising a brow. “These are from Metro-General. Their biopsy came back inconclusive as to what metals they are; those claws match the patterns seen on all the victims.”

    “They were surgically implanted,” Danny answered weakly. “Reddik put me under, just a few months ago. I coded, apparently. The second time, he was successful, but I was comatose for more than a month.”

    Sitwell opened his folder and wrote down more notes. “Is that why you killed him?”

    “What?”

    “Do you have control over it? Do you kill when you want to?”

    “It wasn’t –” _But you did kill him for that._ “I can explain –” _They’ll just think you’re crazy._ “Shut up!” Danny grabbed the sides of her head, tears threatening to pool over as she attempted to force the Voice back into her subconscious.

    “This is Sitwell. We have a situation!”

    It wasn’t until Danny heard him stand and pull out his gun that she realized the broken chain of her restraint. Moments later, the door opened again, revealing Clint and what she assumed was a SHIELD team meant to kill if necessary. Everyone but her brother had some sort of weapon drawn and aimed at her. The thought scared the shit out of her.

    She felt like a deer in headlights. “Wait – please!” Danny scrambled off of the bed and onto her feet, keeping her hands out in front of her. Her heartbeat had picked up considerably; she could feel it in her ears. Her vision began blurring with tears, but she blinked them away. “I’m not… _alone_ , up here, okay?” she offered truthfully. Danny’s voice was shaking, and she was shaking, and she didn’t know what to do to stop it.

    Clint took a few cautious steps forward, wearing some sort of uniform that she didn’t recognize. “Dan, what do you mean?”

    How could she explain this and not sound crazy? Danny tried to think on her feet. “I’m like the Hulk. But like a wolverine, and less… green.”

    His eyes scanned over her, noted the scared look on her face, and the lack of any weaponized claws. “Stand down,” Clint ordered, half turning back to the agents behind him. They all lowered their weapons.

    Agent Sitwell started to fight his decision. “Barton –”

    “I said ‘stand down’, Sitwell. Does she look like she’s going to hurt anybody right now?” Clint waited until Sitwell lowered his gun. “All of you, get out of here.”

    Sitwell and the other agents exited the room, leaving Clint alone with Danny. He pulled her into a hug, one that she clearly did not to want. She started hitting his chest half-heartedly, holding back sobs as tears streamed down her cheeks.

    “I’m so sorry,” he kept whispering into her hair. Clint held her until she stopped fighting, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his chest. “They wanted to make sure…”

    “What the hell was that?” she said, muffled. Danny sniffed, her voice still evidence of her crying. “You shot me, and I woke up cuffed to a bed, interrogated by some asshole that knew way too much about me.”

    Clint had no excuse for her. Just bare-boned apologies and a promise to keep her safe. A promise that he had broken once before, but one that he likely aimed to keep this time around.

    “Did I at least pass the asset report?” she asked suddenly, a little bit of humor coming back to her.

    He didn’t respond, deciding only to scan her face and sigh. “Are you going to be okay?”

    “I’m not going to… to ‘Hulk out’ or whatever, if that’s you’re asking.”

    “Good.” Clint continued wiping tears from her face. Danny felt a sense of déjà vu. “Stay here, and I’ll be right back.”

    Danny grabbed his wrist, her grip strong. “Clint.”

    “I’ll be back. I promise.”

~*~*~*~

“What do you want, Clint?” Sitwell sat back in his chair, giving a pointed look at the assassin standing in the middle of his office.

    “My sister’s sit-rep,” he answered simply. “You’re putting her on the Index?”

    Sitwell flipped open the SHIELD folder that he had taken with him, glancing at the dossier provided and the notes he had put in the margins. “She’s eligible for the Enhanced data pull, but I have to be frank with you: She’s a live wire. That girl is not only a danger to herself, but a danger to –”

    “I’d watch what you say next, Jasper.” Clint crossed his arms over his chest defensively. If he was being honest, he never really liked Sitwell. He was a damn good agent, almost as good as Phil Coulson, but there was just something about him that rubbed Clint the wrong way.

    “I just call what I see, nothing personal,” Sitwell sighed, looking from his fellow agent to the photo of Daniela Barton in his file. “Look, you’ve seen the bodies. The shit she went through? She’s unstable.”

    “If not the Index, then what?”

    Agent Sitwell avoided Clint’s eye. “If she was _any_ other person at her threat level, the only reasonable action would be to cross her off.”

    “No fucking way, asshole –”

    “Hey, don’t bite my head off! It’s just an _option_. One you clearly will fight _not_ to utilize.” Sitwell ran a hand over his face, tapping his fingers on his desk. “Director Fury assigned you to be her supervisor. I just do the paperwork. Responsibility of what happens to her is on you.”

    Clint stood frozen to the spot, thinking. His sister of all people was a Hulk-level danger to the world. _He just got her back_. But if Bruce Banner could be kept alive, albeit on a short leash, so could she. “Index her,” was his final, firm answer. “We’re not crossing her off.”

    As Clint exited Sitwell’s office, the man yelled out after him. “You’re welcome, by the way!”


	5. You Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I'm not enough  
> Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up  
> Am I more than just the sum of every high and every low  
> Remind me once again just who I am because I need to know”  
> \- Lauren Daigle

SHIELD was… intimidating, to put it mildly. After the Sitwell situation, Danny was given a psych evaluation, which probably resulted in a diagnosis of her grappling with a split personality (or _whatever_ the Voice was exactly). At some point, an agent had taken her photo and at least ten vials of her blood. A cotton round had been taped to her elbow, but the puncture was healed within a minute. She used to be squeamish over needles, but after years at The Workshop, it was almost routine.

    The thing about SHIELD that daunted Danny was the fact that it wasn’t necessarily a _secret_ organization, but everything within it definitely _was_. Blame the conspiracy theorist in her, but she wouldn’t be surprised if she found how deep the agency went when it came to world events.

    Danny assumed her brother may have had assignments to go on, or targets to shoot arrows at, but Clint never let her out of his sight. The only time he did was when he went into the hallway to speak with another agent, a red-haired woman who wore a black cat-suit style uniform. She had watched them through the glass window, making an (unsuccessful) attempt to read their lips. The woman made eye contact through the glass for a few moments, and for some reason, Danny felt the need to not be the one that broke it.

    She was observed overnight, then given a spiel about needing to keep her powers and emotions in check. As if that wasn’t already her top priority. Danny wasn’t sure about the next guy, but she for one did not enjoy blacking out and turning into a deadly killer. At the very least, her psych profile revealed that she would only turn into a blood-thirsty rage monster if her stress levels hit a peak, so that was a fun anecdote. The one thing that was missing was a brightly lit marquee sign on her back that said “VOLATILE. AVOID AT ALL COSTS.”

    Clint had driven Danny back to Stark’s after her intake report was put into the system. It was silent the whole ride, with the New York traffic lulling her to sleep and with him content just listening to the radio. But when they reached the mansion on Fifth Avenue, and it was time for them to part ways, neither sibling left the comforts of the SUV. They had _just_ found each other after so many years, so they took the opportunity to catch each other up on their lives.

    For instance, Clint found out that Danny had a flair for computer science and engineering, and she found out that he had a whole-ass family hidden in a farmhouse in Missouri. Totally the same things.

    “I’m an aunt?” Danny whispered after the initial shock had run its course. “Holy shit, I’m an aunt. You actually have _kids_ and a _wife_.”

    “I can count on one hand the amount of people who know they exist,” Clint said. After a beat, he looked at his sister and added, “I named my daughter after you, y’know. Lila Daniela.”

    “Oh, that’s sweet. She turns into a monster too?” she deadpanned.

    “C’mon, don’t do that.” Clint blinked at Danny before reaching over the middle console and pulling her into a hug. “It’s not your fault,” he muttered, aware of the roller coaster of emotions she must be going through. “What did we used to say? What are we?”

    She closed her eyes, biting back a smile. It was a dumb thing that their brother Barney had started one day: He and Clint got beat up by some jerks at the circus, and at seven-years-old Danny thought she would be tough enough to fight back but only ended up hurt. Barney had made a vow that day and every day since to keep them safe. Much good _that_ did.

    Pulling away, Clint made sure that Danny was looking at him before asking again, “Dan, what are we?”

    “We’re a team,” she responded lightly, smiling.

    “Right. And I promise I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you again.”

    _What if the one who hurts you is your own person? What then, Daniela?_ The Voice’s mocking tone caused her smile to falter, and the feeling of dread stayed with her even after they said their goodbyes and I-love-you’s.

    Danny entered Stark’s residence sullenly, the air inside stale and cold enough to raise goosebumps on her skin. JARVIS’ voice filled the empty space immediately. “Welcome home, Ms. Barton. You have seven missed calls and have three unopened messages from Ms. Potts.”

    She walked to the kitchen where she had left her phone behind, battery drained. Danny hooked it up to the charger plugged into the wall and left it momentarily. “JARVIS, what day is it?” she asked as she inspected the contents of the refrigerator.

    “It is 10:49 in the evening, Tuesday, May 5,” the AI responded.

    Was she really gone for almost two full days? Time must really fly when you’ve been targeted by a secret government agency. Danny wondered how SHIELD was able to hack into Stark’s security. Then she remembered how thorough they were with their own security, and that hack was probably child’s play in comparison.

    Her phone’s ringtone went off, indicating it was brought back to digital life. She clicked through her notifications and opened the voicemail. Danny began listening to the messages, waiting for the automated system to say, “ _New message_.” Pepper’s voice followed: “ _Hi, honey. I know you’re probably in the shower but call me back. Just want to check in_ –”

    She hit 7, deleting the message. The next one played.

    “ _New message: Danny, I’ve called three times today and you still aren’t picking up. Hope you’re doing okay. Best case, you’re throwing a party, but worst case… In any case, just return my_ –”

    She pressed 7 once more.

    “ _New message: Danny, you’re starting to worry me, and I know I’m probably just being irrational. I have half a mind to call the police. Call me back as soon as you can_.”

    Danny deleted the final message. Her finger hovered over the Call button in her Recent Log list; she was trying to think of a lie believable enough to tell Pepper. What time was it even in California? She hit the button. Danny hoped that it wasn’t a bad time to –

    Pepper picked up on the second ring. “ _Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick!_ ”

    “I did the American tourist thing and went around New York,” she lied coolly. “I forgot to charge my phone, sorry.”

    “ _Well, I’m glad you’re okay_.”

    Danny teased, “Doesn’t look like any cops came by to see if I was dead or anything.”

    “ _Then it was a lucky thing for you that Tony’s press conference made such a riot_ ,” Pepper said in exasperation. “ _We’ve been trying to do damage control the last couple days, and Obadiah hasn’t been happy_ …”

    Danny listened to her rant, a little curious about the state of Stark Industries. She put Pepper on speaker as she searched for news of Stark: The first things that popped up were CNN videos about his return. A couple livestreams of his conference. Some of the headlines read that another company called Hammer Industries had already swooped in to court those military contracts. Who knew pulling your weapons company out of the weapons business was a bad move?

    “… _and yesterday I stuck my hand in my boss’s chest to replace a – you’re not even listening, are you?_ ”

    “…Sorry.”

    “ _I’m not sure how things will be at SI over the next few days_ ,” Pepper sighed. “ _Do you think you’re going to be alright on your own for a couple more weeks?_ ”

    “I’ve got JARVIS here to keep me company. I’ll be fine.”

    Pepper pleaded, “ _Please, no more disappearing acts_.”

    “No more disappearing acts,” Danny affirmed, hoping that speaking it into existence would do the trick.

~*~*~*~

Three months ago, Tony Stark’s life had been derailed. A weapons demonstration went wrong in all the worst ways, and he spent weeks in the custody of his captors, recovering from the injuries he sustained. It took a while for him to go from wishing he was dead, to wishing he had more parts to use for his and Yinsen’s escape plan.

    Three weeks ago, he had fought his way home. And he left behind the man who had saved his life in more ways than one. Tony could admit that he was never as relieved to see his best friend as he was that day; Rhodey has saved his ass on so many occasions, he’d already lost count. The only thing on his mind when he was finally on U.S. soil again was getting his hands on the greasiest cheese burger he could find.

    Three days ago, Tony was arguing with his assistant about not wanting to take in her old foster kid because he didn’t exactly do “responsibility.” That _girl_ wasn’t Pepper’s responsibility, and she _definitely_ was not his. He didn’t want to have the girl’s well-being on his mind, not after the hell he had gone through. Not during the hell he was _going_ through. If he gave in to Pepper, what would that make him?

    Soft. It would make him soft.

    Tony had been prepping himself to meet the kid who was basically squatting at his parent’s mansion, write her a check so she could stay on her feet (because he wasn’t _completely_ heartless), and then say _sayonara_. But he didn’t write her a check, and he didn’t kick her to the curb. Much to Pepper’s surprise, he actually insisted that she move to Malibu.

    Don’t ask him why he did it, because he wouldn’t be able to give a real answer. Maybe it was because Danny was perfectly respectful and kind. Maybe it was because the kid insisted on getting out of their hair, which caught him off guard. Maybe it was because nearly dying had jarred him into a new perspective. Or maybe it was because Daniela Barton was dealt the shittiest hand in life, yet she was still the polar opposite of what Tony had assumed she’d be.

    Whatever the motive was for Tony’s change of heart, it was the reason she was sitting in his private jet at 41,000 feet above sea level, a mere two days after meeting her. Tony easily noticed the death grip Danny had on Pepper’s hand when they would hit turbulence; if she was terrified of flying, she hid it pretty well. He had been watching her, and she hadn’t stopped staring out the window since they left the tarmac.

    When Pepper got up to use the restroom, Tony took the opportunity to unbuckle his seatbelt and pop into the seat across from Danny. “How are you holding up, kid?” he asked, sipping from a finger of Laphroig.

    “Pretty okay, Mr. Stark,” Danny replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. Her eyes darted back out the window, overlooking the far-reaching landscape and the orangey skies. “I never realized how beautiful it would be up here.”

    “First time on a private plane?” His eyes narrowed minutely, almost trying to gauge her reaction.

    Danny gave a sheepish grin, turning back to face him. “It’s my first time on _any_ plane, sir.”

    Tony only nodded, not sure how to respond to that. He cleared his throat before throwing back the rest of his drink, motioning for another. The flight attendant came forward and replaced it. “Do you want anything?” Tony offered suddenly, turning in his seat to wave the attendant back over. “It’s a full bar.”

    “I thought Pepper would’ve told you, but I’m underage.”

    Tony slumped back into his seat. His face contorted into a look of obvious disbelief. “No, you’re not.”

    “My twentieth is –” Danny paused for a moment, probably trying to do the mental math. And as the light reached her eyes, it burned out just as quickly. Tony barely perceived it, but it was there. She finished, almost sadly, “Jeez, in three days.”

    A sort of “huh” sound came out of his nose. Tony gave his signature flashy smile, saying, “Well, you’re in good company. Mine happens to be in six.” Then, with a shake of his head: “Thirty-nine is such an insignificant number. Now, twenty, _that’s_ a good age. God, the kind of shit I got into in my twenties –”

    “I hope you’re not thinking of becoming a bad influence on Danny,” Pepper interjected, taking her seat. She gave him a pointed look as she buckled back in.

    “Me, Pepper? A bad influence?” Tony returned with a shocked expression, sarcasm dripping from his words. Danny merely hid her grin behind a hand. “How _dare_ you insinuate that!”

    Danny started, “I don’t know, Pep. If you think about it, I might be the worse influence between the two of us.”

    “Oh you brat!” Pepper said in jest.

    The two ladies shared a laugh, and it was the first laugh of Danny’s that Tony had witnessed. It was even nice to see Pepper be more at ease for a change. And for a brief moment, he hoped that Danny would stick around for a while.

~*~*~*~

The end of May came at them hard. Both of their birthdays had come and gone almost wordlessly. An unlisted number had texted Danny (most likely Clint) and Tony was mentioned briefly in the news. It was kind of bittersweet when Pepper had come in with cupcakes on the thirtieth even though both birthdays had passed. Stuff like that was just a blip on their radars.

    Danny would see Tony in the mornings sometimes. Only catching his silhouette slip down into the garage when she’d have breakfast. Other times, they would pass each other on the staircase, giving awkward and curt greetings before going on with their business. Frankly, the blonde wondered if the brunet ever slept; he was always tinkering with stuff into the early morning and darkness was almost constant under his eyes. (Not like she was faring any better; the fear of having another episode, on top of the recurring nightmares, made her restless.)

    She wasn’t sure if it was jetlag or something else that’s been keeping her up at night. Danny was lying in bed, shrouded in darkness. The only source of light came from her smartphone screen as she scrolled through a digital news site. Her eyes glossed over sports team scores, entertainment award nominations, and local news updates about crime lords and economics. They listed showtimes for movie screenings – God, she hadn’t been to see a movie in _so long_.

    It was nearing two in the morning when the music started. At first Danny thought it was an ad auto-playing on her phone, but she realized the sound was coming from the first floor. Leaving the guest room, she went down the stairs barefoot, curious as to why Tony would be up so late playing the piano.

   For some reason, she’d assumed the piano was there just as a display because _sure, every rich person had a grand piano in their living room and not many probably knew how to play_. But Tony did, apparently, and he wasn’t half bad. Danny sat on a step quietly and watched his hands glide over the keys effortlessly.

    He was finishing up a piece that Danny couldn’t quite place but promptly recognized. Having zoned out a bit while listening, she hadn’t immediately noticed when he stopped playing and turned around to look at her. Tony said, “Am I bothering you or something?” but his tone made her unsure if he was angry or actually concerned.

    “Oh, shit. Sorry,” Danny said under her breath. “I didn’t mean to – I, um – you’re really good.”

    “Thanks.” Tony’s expression softened, and his lip quirked up slightly. Then, he grew stern, brows furrowing together. “Hey, it’s two in the morning.”

    Danny almost snorted out _duh, no shit_ , but held it back. Instead she let him know, “Can’t sleep, but what’s new?”

    “Uh, the bed in the guest room?” Tony said in jest, swinging a leg over the piano bench to stand. He waved her off. “Come on, go to sleep. Staying up isn’t healthy for kids your age, or so I keep hearing.”

    “Not healthy for you either,” Danny countered, making a face. She raised a brow at him before heading up the stairs. “Do you sleep, like, _at all_?”

    “That’s what coffee’s for – to recharge so you don’t need to sleep.”

    “Oh, so _that’s_ what it’s for?” she called from the top of the staircase. ‘I thought it was your Midlife Crisis Juice.”

    Tony’s head cocked to the side, and he sucked on his teeth. “I’m sorry, did you say something? I couldn’t hear your over the retreating footsteps you should be taking.”

    Danny stifled a laugh. Tony was witty, she’ll give him that. “Oh, I also had –“

    “Bed!”

    “Alright, fine, I’m going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow y'all get two chapters with this update! Honestly, this chapter seemed like too much filler so I wanted to give you guys something more substantial with the Chapter 6. Please don't forget to leave a comment and subscribe to be updated with new chapters!


	6. Clocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come out upon my seas  
> Cursed missed opportunities am I  
> A part of the cure  
> Or am I part of the disease, singing”  
> \- Coldplay

    Security Log // July 4, 2009 // 22:56:29 PM

>> STARK, ANTHONY E.

>> _ alarm enabled _

<!—

Malibu Security limit report

Auto-Sensor Activation:

Preprocessor node count: 447/300000

Post‐expand include size: 2895/2097152 bytes

Template argument size: 948/2097152 bytes

Expensive parser function count: 0/100

à

 

<!—Saved in parser cache with key Stark.Industries:pcache:idhash:2068-0!*!0!!en!2!* à

<noscript><link rel=”stylesheet” href=”SecurityCamera/css/ImageLazyLoadNoScript.css” /></noscript></div><div class=”printfooter”>

Retrieved from “<a href=”//starkindustries.server/J.A.R.V.I.S.?oldid=1060914”>J.A.R.V.I.S.</a>”</div>

    <li class=”category normal” data-name=”Master (Security)” custom-date=”07/04/09” time-outertag=”23:52:25” data-sortkey=”alarm enabled” data-type=”normal”>

    <span class=”name”><a href=”/server/Category:Facial Recognition” title=”User:Anthony Stark</a></span>

    Security Log // July 5, 2009 // 00:58:30 AM

>> BARTON, A. DANIELA

>> _ alarm disabled _

>> _ front door unlocked _

    <li class=”category normal” data-name=”Front Door (Security)” custom-date=”07/05/09” time-outertag=”01:05:47” data-sortkey=”alarm disabled” data-type=”normal”>

    <span class=”name”><a href=”/server/Category:Facial Recognition” title=”User:Daniela Barton</a></span>

    Security Log // July 5, 2009 // 04:47:59 AM

>> BARTON, A. DANIELA

>> _ front door unlocked _

~*~*~*~

It was still dark out, quiet. There was nothing but the sound of the running shower. Water ran red with blood as it washed over Danny’s skin. Danny was… _She just was._

    Her gaze was far, far away – staring off into space. It was not unlike disassociation, detaching herself from the present. She thought that she had her shit under control, she thought that –

    The floor of the shower stall wasn’t as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. Danny had her knees pulled into her chest, arms locked around them. The showerhead was pouring down scorching hot water, but she was numb to it by now.

    Her heart was still fucking pounding in her chest, and she was anxious. Terrified, was more like it. The Voice echoed, _He deserved it_.

    Images flashed in her mind – blood and claws and bullets – and they were so fresh in her headspace. Danny wasn’t sure what happened. She wasn’t even sure how she found the guy. Her list of kills was just getting longer and longer. Did that guy even _deserve_ to be killed?

    The Voice in her head surely thought so.

    Briefly, very briefly, she thought about how Tony was just at the end of the hall. Hopefully he hadn’t heard her sob her heart out.

~*~*~*~

Danny hated the news. At least, she hated it whenever it related to her (but of course, no one else knew that).

    “… _let’s visit a very harrowing story today coming from Malibu_ ,” the WHiH news reporter began. “ _Police reports came in revealing the brutal death of local crime lord, Ed Coolidge. His body was found early this morning off the Pacific Coast Highway, nearly decapitated and, according to the LA County coroner’s office, almost unrecognizable_.”

    Under normal circumstances, Danny would have been ready to throw herself at the steps of the closest police station. Frankly, she probably cried all of that out in the early morning. She didn’t remember ever leaving Tony’s mansion, but she vaguely remembered leaving behind a nearly mutilated body for the police to find. When she had returned in the dead of night, Danny went straight to her room and washed the blood off of her, scrubbing her skin raw. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t sleep a wink and just watched the sun come up.

    “ _His death is being investigated as a targeted homicide. However, many people have already been celebrating this so-called ‘vigilante killing’ as Coolidge was connected to multiple open cases in the area_.” A photo of the sleaze ball was put on screen. “ _Unfortunately, Coolidge’s death leaves more questions than answers. Who did this? And just how dangerous are they? There are no leads yet confirmed by the police, so we will keep you updated…_ ”

    Under normal circumstances, Danny wouldn’t have believed the Voice telling her that the man whose life she took was evil. It didn’t justify the kill in any way; it only made her skin crawl just thinking about the way he begged for his life after he emptied a clip in an attempt to shoot her. No matter the result, it didn’t make her feel better about how morally grey her actions were. But for some reason, Danny couldn’t find it in herself to turn away from the morning news broadcast talking about the ruthless death.

    She kept telling herself it was the stress. Stress triggered her episodes, right? That’s what SHIELD said in her assessment. Danny literally moved to another coast one week ago with nothing but the clothes on her back and the items Pepper had spotted her. It had to be the stress.

    She didn’t even notice Tony come down from the second floor until he said, “Hey. Earth to Danny.” Her attention turned to him, who gave a half-hearted wave. He was wearing an AC/DC tee over long-sleeves, dark-wash jeans. His dark brown hair was freshly washed, curled slightly. Ironically enough, Tony seemed very well-rested.

    “Sorry, Mr. Stark,” she apologized. Cleared her throat. “I, um – Didn’t realize you were up already.”

    He scoffed, “You’re killing me, kid. Just call me ‘Tony’.” He took the last few steps and sat himself at the edge of the couch, half-paying attention to the report. “You live in my house; the whole formality thing is sort of a non-issue.”

    “Right,” she muttered. “I’ll try to remember that.”

    After a beat: “Are you managing to sleep alright?”

    “Yeah, fine… Why?”

    “No reason, just curious…” His brown eyes flickered to her hazel-greys. Tony asked her, raising a suspicious brow, “Where did you go last night?”

    Danny’s breath froze in her chest, and her heart started racing a bit. She hoped that she didn’t sound like she was hiding something – because she was most definitely hiding something: “What do you mean?” _God, fucking idiot, he has surveillance. He has security cameras, fuck –_

    Tony leaned into the couch, throwing a casual arm over the back. “Hey, look, I’m not here to judge. I’m all for you… doing whatever kids do nowadays,” he cautioned, waving a hand, “but if you keep sneaking out in the middle of the night and end up getting hurt? Pepper’s going to have my head.”

    _How apropos._

_Shut up. You did this._

    “It’s probably not my place since we barely know each other,” Tony continued. “It’s not all shits and giggles, kid. You gotta work with me here.”

    Danny looked at him wordlessly, for a moment. Either he didn’t look too hard at the security footage, or he’s just super chill with people trekking blood into his mansion. She felt relief, nonetheless. The girl responded, changing the subject, “That’s oddly responsible coming from… Well, you know. A genius, billionaire.”

    Tony grimaced, subconsciously tapping his chest. “Yeah, it felt just as odd coming out of my mouth.” After sharing a brief moment of silence, he got to his feet and headed towards the kitchen.

    _Avoided that by the skin of our teeth._

_No thanks to you._

    Danny called after him, “Hey, Tony?” He stopped and turned back to her, expectant. “Thanks. For not telling Pepper.”

    “I got your back, kiddo,” he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile. Tony walked to the kitchen, and then promptly shouted, “Just don’t do it again!”

~*~*~*~

Tony was more than surprised to find Danny and Pepper sitting together in the kitchen, laughing. Sure, he had gotten used to their constant presence in the mansion over the last couple of months. He had only come up from working on his newest suit/armor design to get some water, not expecting the two of them wide awake at nearly eleven at night. “You guys having a party without me, or what’s going on here?”

    “I got some very late dinner,” Pepper told him, sticking chopsticks back into the Chinese takeout container in her hand.

    “I was jonesing for some good Asian food, and Pepper came to the rescue!” Danny revealed, reaching across the table for an unopened takeout box. She handed it to him. “We saved you some orange chicken. Your favorite.”

    Tony accepted the food cautiously before giving a look to the blonde. “And how exactly do you know that?” he questioned, swiping a pair of chopsticks and using only one hand and his teeth to break them apart.

    Danny stifled a chuckle, holding up a _People_ magazine. The front cover had a headline about “Brangelina” and news about the Jon and Kate Gosselin divorce. When Tony made no indication that he understood what she was wanting to show him, Danny pointed to the top right corner. “Apparently, _People_ has the low-down on the ‘ins and outs of dating Tony Stark’,” she clarified.

    “And what, does my profile list my likes and dislikes, too?” Tony popped a full piece of orange chicken into his mouth.

    “Among other things. Says here I’m your new ‘mystery woman’.” Danny and Pepper immediately fell into another fit of laughter.

    “That’s outrageous _and_ inappropriate,” Tony huffed out, but he walked behind Danny to look at the article anyway. “Let me see it.”

    She held it up for him to read. One of the photos was of him, Pepper, and Danny sitting at a booth in the back of a restaurant. He was reaching across the table to show Danny how to eat soup dumplings properly, but he could see where things could be interpreted differently, like they always were.

    He read aloud, “’Tony Stark was spotted having lunch at Arcadia’s Din Tai Fung last week with his assistant and a young mystery woman. She seems to have appeared out of nowhere but was cozying it up with the CEO merely three months after his return and recovery.’ Oh, that’s a horrible photo! They didn’t even capture my _good_ side.”

    Pepper shook her head in amusement, saying to Danny, “I told you he’d say that.”

    Tony continued eating, speaking with his mouth full. “Why’d you even buy that crap? Tabloids are the worst.”

    He noticed her visibly pout. “I’m sentimental, sue me” was Danny’s retort.

    “That’s the difference between you and me,” Tony began. “I’ve been called _many_ things. Nostalgic is not one of them.”

    Danny looked up at him, and then back at the magazine. “I’m keeping it. It’s my second time being published,” she chuckled.

    “When was the first?” Pepper asked.

    “Years ago, in some county newspaper back in Jersey,” she answered, picking at her chow mein. “I placed at my high school science fair. _Before_ I got expelled.”

    “You got _expelled_?” Tony was in shock, and he wasn’t afraid to hide it. He couldn’t imagine someone like Danny Barton so much as hurting a fly, let alone doing something that would warrant expulsion. “I need to hear this.”

    She sighed, red with embarrassment. “It’s a long story.”

    He made his way into a chair. “I’ve got time.”

~*~*~*~

Pepper would say that she had a fairly calm demeanor, professional, and she sure as hell tried to avoid confrontation when she could. She rarely blew up on anyone, if at all. It was just one of those things that made her such a great personal assistant to the CEO of Stark Industries.

    This was not one of those times.

    She was having a productive day at the SI office before a call was patched through. On the other end of the line was a man from New Jersey, a man named Thomas with a wife named Lisa, who reached out and said they had been fostering Danny. From the get-go, Pepper disliked him. He was singing praises and thanks for taking Danny in during “ _such trying times_.” Said his half-assed apologies regarding the “ _inconvenience_ ” of bringing her to California all the way from New York, asking off-handedly if Stark could pay for his and his wife’s two-way airfare to pick up Danny and “ _take her home to us_.”

    Pepper had absolutely grilled them then, and held nothing back: When was the last time you spoke to her? Years? Did you ever visit her in that godforsaken facility? What kind of parent just _leaves_ a minor at a _shady_ organization for _three years_ , and then doesn’t even see if she’s been _tortured_? How the hell did you even become foster parents? Yes, I know what a good foster parent should be because I was hers! How _dare_ you ask for money! Do you even know her favorite ice cream flavor?

    (The couple had stopped fostering after Danny’s stint, thankfully, but admitted that they were hoping for a leg up after the market crash and who better to swindle money out of than Tony Stark, eh?)

    The door crept open slightly, and the head of Obadiah Stane peeked in. A frown was set on his face, and he raised a brow. He didn’t say anything (probably having heard her yelling from down the hallway), just shut the door behind him and stalked forward.

    Avoiding Obie’s eye, Pepper continued, “I have half a mind to file charges against you, to get your license revoked –”

    “ _I don’t appreciate your tone, Ms. Potts_ ,” Thomas said, voice hard. “ _We just want that poor girl back with us. Barely eighteen and she’s already_ –”

    “You’re despicable.”

    “ _Now, I hardly think_ –”

    “She’s twenty. But of course, you’d know that if you even _bothered_.”

    More words were exchanged between them, but there was no love lost. The gist of their argument revolved around Danny aging out of the system and the negligence charges that Pepper held over them. Suffice to say, Pepper (or Danny, for that matter) wouldn’t be hearing from Thomas and Lisa any time soon.

    Obadiah leaned against the edge of her desk, amusement clearly written across his features. He stroked his chin, shaking his head slightly. “You sure had an exciting conversation,” he teased. “I’d have hated to be that guy on the other line.”

    “The _nerve_ of some people, honestly…” Pepper felt her face flush, but kept her shoulders squared anyway. She cleared her throat, picking up a stack of sheets in front of her and nonchalantly putting them in order. “Sorry about that, Obadiah.”

    “No harm no foul,” Obadiah said, pivoting on his heel and taking a seat in one of the guest chairs. He contemplated something before asking Pepper, “Who was that? For the girl?”

    “I – yeah – just – old foster parents found out about Tony taking her in and wanted to capitalize on burned bridges.”

    Obadiah leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, asking something that she’s been expecting since the very beginning: “And… was it necessary to bring the girl – ”

    “Daniela,” Pepper supplied.

    “Right. Daniela.” A beat. “Tony is still recovering from being held captive for months, not to mention the kind of pressure he must be in balancing the company – but I know you already know that.”

    Pepper figured out what he was implying. It was the same kind of question she had asked when Tony first offered to fly Danny out and house her: Is it worth it? Pepper had seen how much of a positive influence having Danny around has been on Tony so far. To this day, three months later, she could say for a fact that it was so worth it. She assured Obadiah as much.

~*~*~*~

If living in a mansion was a once in a life time experience, living with Tony Stark was itself an absolute culture shock. Danny was originally supposed to live with Pepper at her place, but Tony was adamant to make use of the guest room and “Besides, maybe she’ll teach me about some responsibility, eh?”

    Things were going good for the first few months. Towards the end of September, Danny would accompany Pepper on some errands she’d need to do, just to feel useful. She had only had one incident, which she was able to hide (somehow). Since then, she’s been able to control her condition a lot better. But that in another way meant the presence of the Voice was no longer restrained to her transformations; the Voice was getting more and more vocal, and sometimes she had to make sure that Tony didn’t think she was crazy and talking to herself.

    Now, Tony was everything she expected him to be, yet also everything she didn’t. He was a little cocky and reserved, sure, but the more that she got to know him, the more she saw that he actually wanted to change. Nearly everything that Tony did surprised her: restructuring his entire company’s bottom line, purposely avoiding confrontations with Obadiah Stane, holing himself down in his workshop to tinker on some off-the-books project. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Tony since he went down this afternoon.

    Danny was sitting on the floor in his living room, snacking on a bowl of popcorn as she watched a rerun of some old show. Two incredibly loud crashes came from the downstairs garage and workshop, which made Danny jump out of her skin. She muted the television, leaning to the console on the table and opening the intercom. “Tony, is everything okay down there?”

    No response.

    “Tony? Hellooo?”

    The only thing she heard was the beeping from his robots. Slightly concerned, Danny got up from the floor and made her way to his workshop, padding down the stairs. When she reached the door, she didn’t immediately see Tony through the glass windows. Danny waited for the key pad to pop up, then she touched in her code. Her photo ID appeared as the door unlocked, and she rushed through, looking for the raven-haired genius.

    Dum-E beeped at her, angling towards her left and spraying a little of the fire extinguisher. She saw Tony laying on the ground then, slowly getting to his bearings. “Jesus,” Danny breathed as she kneeled beside him. “What happened to you?”

    “Too much thrust,” he groaned, attempting to get up. Danny took his forearm and helped him to sit. Tony felt at his face, then checked his hands to see if there was any blood.

    In order to check his coherency, she asked him, “Do you remember what day it is?”

    “Not particularly.”

    “What did you have for breakfast?”

    “I didn’t,” he answered. Tony looked at her then. “Is it still October 5?”

    Danny nodded, relieved. She scanned him briefly to see if anything was sticking out where it wasn’t supposed to. “Are you good? Can you stand?” she inquired, staring at the metal boots that he had attached to his feet.

    “Give me a sec, kid,” he muttered, leaning back on the pillar.

    “What did you hit?”

    He pointed up to the wall. Danny shifted her weight and sat cross-legged beside him, looking around the workshop. Tools and larger pieces of equipment were strewn about the work benches. His computers had schematics pulled up of thruster boots and gauntlets. Looking back at Tony, she saw things attached to his arc reactor, likely the source of power. “What are you even working on?”

    “That’s classified,” he mused, moving to get up. Danny held her hand out, which he took gratefully, and used her counter weight to pull them both to their feet. He muttered a quiet “thanks.”

    “C’mon, Tony,” she pleaded. “I’ve already seen your thruster boot thingies.”

    “Unsee them, then.” He stomped his way back to the workbench, sitting in the stool and grabbing a small screw driver. She followed him, watching as he bent over to mess with the boots. They detached themselves and he pulled his feet out of them one at a time. Tony straightened up, frowning when he saw his almost-ward still standing in front of him. “Danny –”

    “Who have I to tell? I don’t have anyone besides Pepper,” she said sadly. Danny’s hazel-grey eyes met his browns, then she looked away. She shrugged her shoulders, shifting her weight on her feet. “And it’s not like I’d go to the press, because that’s just a dick move. Plus, if that was my agenda in the first place, don’t you think there’d be leaks by now? I _have_ been living here for, like, four months.”

    Tony didn’t respond, only making an effort to pick up the thrusters and place them on the workbench. He wordlessly made his way to a computer, barely giving her a glance. Dejected, she figured that his silence was his answer; she decided to leave him to his work. Danny’s hand was already on the handle of the door when he suddenly spoke: “You said you placed at your science fair.”

    Danny’s hand fell to her side, and she turned around to look at Tony. “When I was fourteen, but it’s been –”

    “What was your project?” Tony angled himself toward her, almost as if he was studying her.

    She took a second to process his question. For some reason, her palms started to sweat. “I workshopped how to build cloud storage,” Danny explained, “and then I added a network security layer that used voice biometrics.”

    A look of contemplation washed over Tony’s features. Another thing surprised Danny: the small grin that formed on his lips. “Software engineering… Would you know how to program flight stabilizers?”

    “I can try,” Danny admitted. “I learn fast.”

    Tony grinned. “C’mere. Let me show you something.”

    And that was the first day of the most interesting week in Danny’s life. It hadn’t been the time Clint spent teaching her how to shoot a bow and arrow at age seven; it hadn’t been the time when Pepper took her out for ice cream after getting in trouble for standing up to a bully. It was the week Tony decided to take a leap of faith and take her under his wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you guys have enjoyed the last couple chapters! Please subscribe and leave a comment, let me know how it's going!


	7. Ribs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This dream isn't feeling sweet  
> We're reeling through the midnight streets  
> And I've never felt more alone  
> It feels so scary, getting old”  
> \- Lorde

Tony Stark wasn’t impressed by a lot of things, but Daniela Barton had been a recent exception. He saw early on that she was incredibly gifted, although she still had a lot to learn. But what she lacked in technical terminology, she more than made up for by picking things up quickly. Danny wasn’t afraid to ask him questions and was tedious when it came to following instructions.

    Within three days, she had assisted him with finishing the plans for the flight stabilizers, even if she didn’t dare touch his holographic table. “I don’t want to be responsible for breaking that thing,” she had said.

    “You won’t.” He had assembled the blueprint and showed her how to weave her arm through the hologram, which followed her movements. The look of childlike wonder on her face was enough to warm the cold cockles of his heart. “Cool, right?”

    Within another five days, they had finished the housing of the stabilizer prototype. Danny was helping him to clip the gauntlet wires to his chest bandolier when someone came down the staircase. “Up two… Alright, set that,” he told Danny, looking up to see Pepper come in with a cup of coffee sitting on top of a small package.

    “I’ve been buzzing you,” she said. “Did neither of you hear the intercom?”

    “Hi, Pep,” Danny greeted, waving with a free hand. “Had our hands full.”

    “Yeah, everything’s…” He lost his train of thought. Tony braced himself against the workbench as he and Danny simultaneously screwed the gauntlet to his forearm. To Pepper, he stuttered, “I’m sorry, what?”

    “Obadiah’s upstairs,” Pepper answered, placing down the things in her hands. “What would you like me to tell him?”

    “Great, I’ll be right up.”

    “Is this what you two have been doing all week?” Pepper watched as Danny maneuvered around Tony, stepping beside her. She looked around at the mess in the workshop. “I can’t believe – I thought you said you were done making weapons,” Pepper chastised.

    “It isn’t,” Tony said, lifting the gauntlet and extending his arm out. He pressed a button to activate the Repulsor Transmitter in the palm. “This… This is a flight stabilizer. It’s completely harmless.” The gauntlet powered up and he let a burst of RT from his hand – effectively throwing him onto the floor, knocking over a toolbox and sending wrenches flying. Pepper and Danny both flinched away. Tony pushed himself into a sitting position, sighing. Having the wind knocked out of him, he confessed, “I didn’t expect that.”

    “I’m going back upstairs” was all Pepper said before turning on her heel and departing. Danny was at his side again, a mocking grin plastered on her face. “Too much thrust again, Mr. Stark?”

    “Shut up and help me out of this thing.”

    The bandolier and gauntlet were removed in no time. Tony had the door open when he noticed Danny was still at the workbench. “Are you not coming up?”

    “I don’t want to intrude. Sounds like a grown-up issue,” she responded without looking up at him. Danny reassembled the gauntlet, screwing the housing closed.

    “Don’t blow anything up,” Tony said in stride.

    “No promises,” Danny said before he bounded up the stairs.

    Reaching the main level, Tony was met by piano music. He watched Obadiah for a moment before asking him about his meeting. When he saw a box of pizza sitting on the coffee table, he knew the answer immediately. “Wow. It went that bad, huh?” He sat on the couch beside Pepper, opening the box.

    “Just because I brought pizza back from New York doesn’t mean it went bad,” Obadiah said, continuing to play the keys.

    “Uh-huh. Sure doesn’t,” he sighed. Tony picked out a slice. “Oh, boy.”

    “Would’ve gone better if you were there.”

    Tony took a bite, saying, “No. You told me to lay low, and that’s what I’ve been doing. I lay low, and you take care of all the…”

    Obadiah got up from the piano and took the steps. “Oh, come on. In public, the press.” The ice in his glass clinked as he sat down beside him. “This was a board of directors meeting.”

    “This was –” Tony swallowed. “This was a board of directors meeting?”

    “The board is claiming you have post-traumatic stress,” Obadiah revealed. “They’re filing an injunction.”

    Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They’re filing – “A _what_?”

    “They want to lock you out.”

    “Why, because the stocks dipped forty points? We knew that was gonna happen.”

    Pepper interjected, “Fifty-six and a half.”

    Tony turned to her, exasperated. “It doesn’t _matter_. We own the controlling interest in the company.”

    “Tony,” Obadiah started slowly, “the board has rights, too. They’re making the case that you and your _new direction_ isn’t in the company’s best interest –”

    “I’m being responsible, that’s a new direction? For me – for the company.” Obadiah and Pepper just stared at him, and his face blanched. Tony stuttered out, “I mean, me on the company’s behalf, being responsible for the way that… Oh, that’s great.” Slightly annoyed, Tony stood up abruptly and grabbed the pizza box. “I’ll be in the shop.”

    “Hey, hey, hey. Tony, listen.” Obadiah’s voice was almost disappointed as he got up, grabbing the genius’s shoulder. “I’m trying to turn this thing around, but you gotta give me something! Something to pitch ‘em.”

    He continued when Tony didn’t respond: “Let me have the engineers analyze that,” Obadiah offered, pointing at the arc reactor on Tony’s chest, “draw up some specs –"

    “No,” Tony answered immediately.

    “It’ll give me a bone to throw the boys in New York –"

    “No, absolutely not. This one stays _with me_.” Tony turned on his heel. If he had learned from anything, he was not going to let the arc reactor technology into anyone’s hands but his. “That’s it, Obie, forget it.”

    “Alright, well, _this_ stays with me then.” The box was snatched from his grasp. Tony’s brows rose up on his forehead. Obadiah returned the look, before dropping it. He reached out with the box once more. “Go on, here, you can have a piece. Grab two, I hear the kid’s downstairs.”

    Tony raised the slices up in thanks, but stopped short when Obadiah asked him, “What is she to you, Tony, some sort of charity ward?”

    Defensively, Tony deliberately said, “The kid’s name is Daniela, and she’s part of the new direction of ‘responsibility’ that I was talking about.” He turned back to the staircase, making a quick exit. “Quote me on that and tell it to the BODs.”

    Obadiah called after him, “Do you mind if I come down there to see what you’re doing?”

    “Good night, Obie,” he called back in finality, already halfway down the stairs. When he returned from the workshop, Danny was laying down on the couch, scrolling through her phone. He handed her the pizza without a word and made a beeline to the flight stabilizer.

    “You don’t look very happy,” she pointed out, taking a bite of the slice.

    Tony plopped down into a seat, picking up a screw driver. “Nice observation, Sherlock.”

    With a mouth full, Danny mused, “I’m assuming it didn’t go well, considering the consolation pizza –”

    “Are you done?” Tony snapped, turning around in his seat to look at her. Danny gave a meek apology, almost shrinking into herself. He returned his focus to his tech, a thick silence blanketing them for a while.

    It wasn’t until later, when Tony asked for the small laser from the computer table, that he realized she had fallen asleep. Danny was curled up, her face buried in the cushion. Knowing that she had slept way less than he had over the last few days, he decided to leave her be. Tony grabbed the folded blanket from a chair and placed it over her, grabbing the laser and going back to the stabilizer.

    Pepper came down a few minutes later. Tony held a finger up to his lips, signaling for her to be quiet. “Obadiah left,” she said in a stage whisper, closing the door behind her. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything else.”

    “I’m good for the night,” Tony whispered back.

    “Should I wake her up?” Pepper asked, walking to the couch and sitting at the arm rest. She reached a tender hand to Danny, softening her rogue hair back.

    Tony shook his head. “No, she’s good. I’ll get her before I head up.” He turned fully in his seat, watching Pepper as she watched over Danny. He let a smile find its way to his face, saying, “She could definitely be mouthy sometimes, but she’s a really good kid all things considered.”

    “It definitely hasn’t been easy for her,” Pepper agreed. For an unknown reason, Tony felt like she meant it in more ways than one. “Although I must admit, I am a little jealous of you.”

    “Please enlighten me,” he grinned, placing his hands on his knees.

    “I was her first foster mom, after her parents died. She didn’t even _speak_ for the first few months when I had her.” Pepper got up, taking a couple of strides to stand a few feet from him. “I can see that you’d grown on her pretty fast. You both can bond over your sciences; it sort of makes me feel…” She trailed off, trying to find the words. “Replaced.”

    Tony looked at Pepper with disbelief in his eyes. “You are the most capable, qualified, trustworthy person I have ever met. You are not so easily replaceable.”

    Pepper gave a small smile, her eyes falling to the floor before she looked back up. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

    “That will be all, Ms. Potts,” he told her, smiling.

~*~*~*~

Danny was beyond excited when she realized that the windows of the mansion could put up displays, which made it so much easier to search and file things away. Over the last month, she had been compiling articles about the facility and the things that affected her. Doing research on The Workshop had proven a lot of things for Danny. She proved that there was in fact something in New York that hid itself as a private research organization. She proved that there was a cocktail of unimaginable things running through her veins. She also proved that Tony’s network archives were vast and far-reaching. ‘Captain America’ and redacted SSR files kept coming back from her investigations, but not as much as the name ‘Dr. Bruce Banner.’

    He was a scientist from Culver University that volunteered to try the army’s recreated Super-Soldier Serum back in 2005. News articles and previously broadcasted conferences over the last few years showed that he was greatly marred by its side effects. It was obvious that science was not kind to him, being as he had radiated and turned into a large, green hulking thing. The experiments that Reddik had subjected her to were done in an attempt to recreate his transformation; she was grateful it didn’t succeed in the way he had imagined.

    “JARVIS, pull up the last time Dr. Banner was spotted.” Danny carefully took a seat at the foot of her bed, facing the display expanded across the clear window. She watched as video clips appeared alongside the front pages of many newspapers. The timestamps and print dates revealed them coming from more than a year ago. Incredulous, Danny muttered under her breath, “How can a green giant hide from the world for so long?”

    Bruce Banner was… Danny could only describe him as ‘incredible.’ He was incredibly intelligent (evidenced by his many degrees and contributions to the scientific realm). Danny was no doubt fascinated by him – the man _underneath_ the green exterior. He could teach her how to further control what she recently started calling the Sharp One, the split personality that came from the very recesses of her own mind. It was obvious that Banner was the only person alive that could possibly understand their mutually disastrous conditions.

    And then, her mind did begin to wander. It was the curly hair, the kind brown eyes, the perfect cupid’s bow of his lip. Danny’s eyes took in the details of his photos; she hated to admit that he was incredibly attractive. She’s had her fair share of celebrity crushes, stars and public figures alike; hell, she could admit that Tony was handsome in his own right. But Bruce Banner was something else entirely.

    Suddenly, Danny saw a streak of silver off in the distance. Through the window, she watched as the flying humanoid figure approached the cliffside mansion over the water. It wasn’t until it zipped past her window that she realized it was actually Tony in the Mark II suit that she had been helping him with. Danny began waving away the displays at the window when her ceiling abruptly caved in. She let out an unintelligible scream, her heart pounding in her chest. As she tried calming her heart rate, she noticed the gaping hole in the floor.

    Danny approached the edge of the gap cautiously. Looking up through the ceiling, she was shocked to see the dark sky sprinkled with glittering stars. Sounds caught her attention below, the spraying of a fire extinguisher and numerous car alarms. Danny peered over the edge, seeing the piano in the foyer smashed to pieces and a hole going through to the garage. The silver suit was staring back at her from two stories below.

    “Tony!” she called down, concern filling her bones. “Tony, are you okay?” Figuring that he probably couldn’t even hear her, Danny threw a sweatshirt over her tank top and made her way down the spiraling staircase. She stopped at the first level briefly, sadly.

    Damn, did she love that piano. More specifically, she loved hearing Tony play the most beautiful pieces on the most random nights. She carefully tiptoed past the fragments of the instrument, pausing for another moment to sigh, before sprinting down the stairs again.

    Danny had unlocked the glass door to the workshop by the time Tony attempted to sit up on his own. Catching her breath, Danny walked up to him, sprawled across the damaged hood of his now-totaled Shelby Cobra. She asked him, “Please explain to me how you fell through the entire length of your house.”

    His voice was robotically tinged as it came through the suit: “I knew the armor was heavy, but this was a minor miscalculation.” The front of Tony’s helmet flipped open, revealing the pale face of the billionaire genius. Danny noted a reddening scratch on his eyebrow. A small smirk was growing on his lips. “Also,” he added, “I accidentally discovered an icing problem.”

    It was slow going, but Tony made an attempt to get to his feet, straining against the weight of the suit of armor. Before repercussions had even crossed her mind, Danny reached for his metal-clad forearm and assisted with pulling him off the smashed car and to his feet easily, glass shards crunching. The girl mentally kicked herself, in disbelief that she’d let it slip so easily. _Fuck_.

    She immediately let go, as if electricity had shot up her arm, upon seeing the look of both shock and confusion on the raven-haired man’s face. Tony questioned her, giving the short blonde a full onceover, “How in the living _hell_ did you just do that?”

    Danny opened her mouth to muster a lie, to continue her charade of being a girl who wasn’t exposed to the horrors of others’ will of wanting to play God. The Sharp One was in her head, encouraging the deceit, and Danny pushed her to the back of her mind. She knew Tony deserved more than hidden secrets. He had opened his home to her, and he himself had opened up to trust her. And she wanted to trust him, too.

    “Tony, I haven’t…” Danny cleared her throat, feeling the uncomfortable dryness of her mouth. She shrunk under Tony’s scrutiny. What would he do once he realized she’s been hiding things from him? Yell at her, kick her out? Would he attack her? Hoping to avoid the worst, she suggested, “Let me help you out of the suit.”

    Every time the opportunity had previously presented itself for Danny to bring it up to him, she would chicken out. Real bad. More than anything, she _feared_ his reaction. It had been eating her up inside since the very beginning, because Tony was slowly becoming someone she looked up to, someone she confided in, someone whom she cared for. For the first time in years, she didn’t want to be the reason that could sever one of the only good things in her life.

    When Tony was clear of the suit, the lingering tension was almost thick enough to cut with a knife. She hesitantly handed him an ice pack to nurse his head. Danny fidgeted with her hands as Tony finally said, “Are you going to tell me what’s up, kid?”

    And so, she did, reluctantly. Danny told him about The Workshop and the medieval experiments, the serums and the surgery; he had barely said anything since she began speaking. But she omitted the presence of the Sharp One and all the bodies they left behind. When she was done, Danny searched Tony’s face. It was stoic, unreadable. He got up and walked past her without a word, only stopping to place a hand on her shoulder momentarily. Despite feeling a pang of guilt in her chest, she knew that they both needed some time to process.

    She didn’t sleep well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: and i oop
> 
> Updates might be somewhat sporadic in the future. Classes have started up for me again, but I have sooo many ideas for this story! Please leave a comment and hit that kudos!


	8. when the party's over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't you know too much already?  
> I'll only hurt you if you let me  
> Call me friend but keep me closer (call me back)  
> And I'll call you when the party's over”  
> \- Billie Eilish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: Here's a semi-filler chapter. Still has a couple scenes from the Iron Man movie, however. The Battle of Los Angeles will be the next chapter! Please let me know how I'm doing; comments and kudos are always appreciated!)

Danny was unreasonably relieved to see Pepper the following morning. She had come in to drop off some things for Tony before planning to head out. Apparently, there was a charity ball hosted by Stark Industries scheduled for later in the evening in favor of the Firefighter Family Fund, and Pepper was in charge of confirming the final preparations. Danny asked to tag along; anything to get out of the house and avoid any awkward revelations with Tony. The day had been relatively uneventful, with Pepper focused on the finishing details and Danny following her around, trying to be as helpful as she was allowed to be.

    Pepper had been kind enough to have Happy pick up a dress for her, already knowing things like that were somewhat of a luxury for the young woman. Having lived in the east coast for most of her life, and given her prior circumstances, Danny never would have dreamed to go to California. Now she was going to be at the freaking Disney Concert Hall, of all places.

    Parties weren’t really her thing – at least, they hadn’t been. At any rate, the event wasn’t for some corporate stooge (even though many reporters outside would consider Tony _exactly_ that), but rather a benefit that was held annually. Danny enjoyed the occasional get-together for holidays and special occasions, but large events with most of the employees of SI was new territory for her. No one knew her and she knew no one, but a small bout of anxiety had slowly crept up on her as the night wore on. When more people started to arrive at the party, Danny slinked off into the ladies’ room to catch a breath.

    Leaning against the sink, Danny took a glance at herself in the mirror. God, she looked like a hot mess. Her blonde hair was on the verge of falling out of its bun, and the white lacey cocktail dress that Pepper gave her was bunching up at her hips. Attempting to salvage her appearance, Danny pulled her hair down and ran her hands through, letting it settle on her shoulders. She let out a deep sigh as the bathroom door opened.

    A look of concern washed over Pepper’s face when she saw Danny standing at the counter, appearing distressed. “Feeling okay, honey?” she asked, giving the girl’s arm a comforting squeeze.

    “I’ll be fine. Fancy events are just not really my scene,” Danny revealed, smiling at Pepper through the mirror. She was wearing her red hair curled down, and the deep blue dress that complimented her brought out her eyes. “Pep, you look beautiful.”

    Pepper responded, “I sure hope so! Tony bought me this dress.”

    “ _Tony_ chose this?” Truly unbelievable.

    “Well, technically, I got it for myself on his behalf, since he forgot my birthday.”

    “That sounds more like it,” Danny snickered at that. “I’ll see you back outside?”

    “Don’t do anything too crazy now.”

    Danny rolled her eyes, smiling. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

    It seemed like there were more people on the floor now than there was before Danny had popped into the bathroom, if that was even possible. The classical music provided good background noise to punctuate the sound of murmurs, which was resembled the sound of heavy rain. She made a beeline to the open bar, requesting for a Shirley Temple to wash down her nerves and also give her hands something to do.

    “Give me a Scotch, I’m starving.” A bill was placed into one of the clear glasses on the counter.

    Sipping at her drink, Danny turned to the man who had walked up beside her; he was wearing a fitted tuxedo with a bowtie and had his hair combed back neatly. She returned a reserved smile when he flashed her his signature grin.

    “You clean up nice.”

    “As one does, when associated with you,” Danny responded in jest. “I’m actually surprised to see you here.”

    “What has the world come to that I had to crash my own party?” Tony said, leaning against the bar. He spotted the cherry-topped drink in the girl’s hand and grimaced. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

    “It would be illegal otherwise,” Danny reminded him, pointedly drinking her nonalcoholic drink.

    “I still can’t quite wrap my head around you not touching alc in all your years,” he said absentmindedly. “I could never.”

    Nervously, she wrapped her fingers around the cool glass before getting his attention again. “Tony, about last night –”

    “Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge.” He picked up his drink and took a tentative sip, licking his lips after. “Look, I realized today that I should be the _last_ person to judge what you’d gone through, considering –” Tony tapped his chest; Danny heard the faint noise of the arc reactor “– I’m not entirely myself either.”

    Danny wasn’t sure how to respond. She was already thrown off by his unpredictable reaction, and this acknowledgement was the literal cherry on top. Before she could voice a reaction, however, a man wearing a suit just a little too big on him walked up beside Tony.

    “Mr. Stark,” he said briskly.

    Tony angled is body towards him. “Yeah?”

    “Agent Coulson.”

    Vague recognition registered on Tony’s face, and Danny had to stop herself from snorting out a laugh. He stuttered out, “Oh yeah, yeah, the guy from the… the…” He made eyes with Danny, almost asking for help.

    Fortunately, Agent Coulson finished for him, “Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

    A slight chill ran along the length of Danny’s spine and she tried shrugging it off. _What exactly could SHIELD want with Tony?_ Danny glanced at the agent, inspecting his movements. The slightly oversized suit was smart; she couldn’t place where he had his gun tucked away.

    Tony brought his glass to his mouth and took a sip of his scotch. “ _Phew_. God, you gotta get a new name for that.”

    Coulson kept a respectful smile on his lips, unperturbed by Tony’s casual bluntness. His eyes flickered to hers momentarily. “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

    Danny grasped her drink with one hand and swung it back, all but chugging everything down. She needed to make a quick exit because this conversation was getting real tense, real fast –

    Except Tony’s fingers lightly wound themselves around her wrist in one swift move when he leaned back into the bar. Their eyes met and Danny could see the clear sign of _Help me_. Already having graced the presence of SHIELD herself, she couldn’t blame his hesitance.

    “Listen,” Coulson began, “I know this must be a trying time for you, but we need to debrief you. There’s still a lot of unanswered questions, and time could be a factor with these things. Let’s just put something on the books: How about the twenty-fourth at seven p.m. at Stark Industries?”

    Tony was hardly listening to him throughout the entire one-sided conversation, his eyes finally catching on Pepper’s form standing across the room. By the look on his face, he probably thought she was _breathtaking_. Tony held out a hand to shake, which Coulson took after he said, “I’ll tell you what, you got it. You’re absolutely right.” The glass of scotch clinked against the bar when he put it down, still distracted. “I’m gonna go to my assistant and… we’ll make a – date.”

    Both Coulson and Danny watched as Tony stepped away. The latter stared daggers at his back, holding back from cursing under her breath. A cherry was picked from her glass and she bit it between her teeth. The silence between them was almost deafening. Danny was probably visibly stiff having been left behind with the agent, and for all she knew he had a gun already aimed for her head.

    “Ms. Barton, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” Agent Coulson reached a hand out, smiling at her and introducing himself. “Phil Coulson.”

    Relaxing a little, she took his hand and shook once. She noted the rough callouses and how her hand seemed so small compared to his. “Sir, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Daniela,” she responded. A heartbeat passed before she rolled her eyes at herself, adding, “Sorry, you already knew that.”

    “I’d say I wish we met under better circumstances, but…” Coulson motioned around them, a ghost of a grin dancing on his face. “What’s a better place than a Stark event, huh?”

    Danny nodded along respectfully, still on her guard. Looking around at the guests and the lingering bartender, she motioned for him to follow her to a less populated part of the large ballroom. “So, you said you work for SHIELD?” she asked him, gauging his reaction.

    “Huh. ‘SHIELD’. I like that,” Coulson muttered under his breath. To Danny, he answered, “I’ve been with the agency for some time now, yes. Had a couple of missions with your brother, in fact.”

    She let the tension in her shoulders give way. If this guy was good enough for Clint to trust on his side, then maybe she could trust him a little bit. Just a little. “You know Clint?”

    “Very well. He’s a good man, a great agent, and an even better brother.” Coulson smiled, and this time Danny could tell it held genuine fondness. “Clint fought hard for you, you know, when others believed you to be too dangerous.”

    “You’ve seen my Index assessment, then?”

    “I have.”

    Danny took a moment to digest that, taking a breath. There was something left unsaid, an implication in the agent’s words. _Clint fought hard to keep you alive because everyone wanted you dead_. The Sharp One stirred in her mind, and Danny kept her at bay. The blonde turned to the slightly balding man and cocked her head in curiosity. “If I ask you something, Agent Coulson, will you be honest with me?”

    “As honest as I can be,” he said.

    Danny grew serious, her demeanor changing dramatically. Cautiously, she asked in a low voice, “With everything I’d done, everything you could’ve read on me… Do you see me as just the monster?”

    He let out a huff from his nose, amusement written across his features. “I learned a long time ago not to judge people on things they couldn’t control,” Coulson answered wholeheartedly. “I can’t pretend to understand; you’ve gone through some shit. But you’re here, and you’re in good company.” The agent bit back a remark when his head bobbed side to side in contemplation. “Eh. Scratch that. Tony Stark’s debatable company to have around right now.”

    Danny laughed, shaking her head. Whoever had the gall to poke fun at Tony was someone she could keep in her corner.

    Coulson reached into his breast pocket and took out a card. He handed it to her. “If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to call my office. I’m a lot nicer than Agent Sitwell.”

    She scanned the business card, her eyes lingering on the eagle insignia on the corner and the name: Phillip J. Coulson. When Danny looked up, he was already walking away. She called after him, “Wait, Coulson, one last question.”

    He turned keenly, lips pressed into a line.

    “Did you really come here for Tony… or for me?”

    The expression on his face didn’t falter. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Barton.” And then, he was gone.

~*~*~*~

Their voices had floated up from the workshop below; loud enough mostly because the holes in the floors weren’t fixed from Tony’s test-run from a couple of days prior. He and Pepper had been arguing for a few minutes already by the time Danny had gotten her bearings straight. She lay in bed and merely stared up at the ceiling, listening.

    From what she gathered initially, Pepper had found Tony getting out of his suit this morning. They were arguing about dangerous escapades and bullet-holes, whatever that was about. But the topic quickly shifted to her when Tony nonchalantly mentioned Danny’s involvement with the suit’s development, and Pepper went ballistic.

    “Risking your life and getting shot at is _one thing_ , Tony, but –”

    “I don’t see what you’re so anal about, Pepper. You _saw_ us work on this. Danny’s never been in any danger –”

    “That was before I knew it was this, Tony! She’s not even old enough to _drink!_ ” Pepper’s voice was breaking from her frustration. “Danny’s just a _kid_.”

    Tony responded, “She’s a kid that knows her way around tech and is _really_ good at it. Danny helped _build_ this thing! Do you know how –”

    “Don’t change the subject, Tony!”

    “Pepper, you’re not _listening_ to me.”

    Their conversation dropped in volume. Maybe they had finally stopped shouting at each other. Hopefully. Danny took the pause to throw off her sheets and run her fingers through her knotted hair. The lights in the en-suite bathroom were just too bright this early in the morning; Danny shoved a toothbrush in her mouth and speedily cleaned.

    By the time Danny had changed clothes and was padding down the stairs, she could hear Pepper’s heels clicking in the foyer. Pepper all but slammed the front door as she left, and no sooner did crashing come from the workshop below.

    _That sounded destructive_ , the Sharp One commented.

    _What an astute observation,_ Danny huffed sarcastically. She kept her mouth shut as she descended to the workshop, seeing the glass windows shattered and debris all over the floors. She gripped the handle of the still intact door out of habit, deciding to just go through the broken windows and step through the shards of glass.

    “Good morning, Ms. Barton,” JARVIS said in greeting.

    Danny almost smiled before realizing he was an AI that probably didn’t understand social cues. Or maybe, because he was Tony’s AI, he did. “Hi, JARVIS,” she responded instead.

    Her eyes scanned the workshop. The large contraption Tony had built to help remove the pieces of his mech armor was in the middle of the floor, big and yellow and ugly. It was halfway through with fitting back into the ground; the red and gold suit was dismantled, but even from where she stood, the scraped paint and littered bullet-holes were prominent.

_No wonder Pepper was so mad._

    “Tony? It’s me.”

    His figure came into view a few moments later, wearing some sort of one-piece track suit and jeans. Tony pulled an apologetic look when he saw her, knowing full well that his ward likely heard most of the heated conversation. His brown eyes switched between her to the glass to the suit. “Hi, kiddo,” he sighed, almost defeated.

    If she knew any better, it would have been wise to avoid talking about the argument. It wasn’t her place, and it would’ve just rubbed the issue in Tony’s face again. “Let’s go out. Breakfast?” Thankfully, she did know better. “I’m feeling pancakes.”

    He was in the middle of shoving his feet into a pair of shoes when he said, “Actually… Yeah. Why not?” Tony smiled in relief, probably glad that he wasn’t going to be yelled at twice in one morning. “I know this cozy little diner off the highway,” the man offered. He power-walked across the room, going to the counter on the far wall to snatch a set of keys. Tony turned, saying, “You drive,” and Danny flailed for a second when he threw the keys to her.

    She caught the jingling keys with ease but pursed her lips after. “I can’t,” she revealed, embarrassed.

    “I’m sorry?” Tony was already standing at the passenger side of his Mercedes, door wide open. “What do you mean you can’t? Like, can’t drive stick?”

    “I mean, no one’s ever taught me how to drive a car, period.” She rocked on the balls of her feet.

    Danny was expecting him to burst out laughing, or hide a smile, or question why a twenty-year-old kid didn’t know how to drive a fucking car. She was expecting to explain how none of her foster parents ever had the time, or how she never saw the need to learn because parking was a bitch in New York anyway.

    But Tony said something she didn’t expect. “Get in. I’ll show you.” He said it so simply, like it was nothing, that it caught her off-guard.

    Danny’s eyes widened. She shook her head. “Uh, sorry, no thanks. Your least expensive car is probably worth more than _my life_.”

    “I’ve got insurance,” he waved off casually.

    She stepped closer to him, holding out the car keys. “Take the keys back, Tony,” Danny said, unsure. Was he going mental? He was definitely going mental.

    “Sorry, I don’t like being handed things.”

    “Tony –”

    “Danny.” Tony leaned against the top of the sports car, brow raised. “Just get in. Don’t make me ask again.”

    He spent the next few minutes getting her familiarized with the controls, showing her how to check the mirrors properly. She tested the blinkers and ended up turning on the windshield wipers. Danny kept making snide comments about if he was “ready to die today, Tony, because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

    When they finally lurched forward, she was visibly stiff in the driver’s seat, and her knuckles went white with how deathly her grip was on the wheel. It took almost two minutes just to get out of the underground garage because Danny was going a whopping _six miles an hour_ , mortified at the thought of scratching the vehicle.

    “Jesus fuck, I thought we’d never see the sun again,” he said in exasperation once they made it to the driveway.

    “This was _your_ idea!” Danny frowned, playing mock offense. The car crawled to the edge of the mansion’s driveway, and she stopped just before the street, turning to face him. “I’m pretty sure it’s against the law for me to drive without a license. And I doubt you trust me enough to actually drive this thing out where I can commit accidental manslaughter.”

    “Okay, _fine_. You didn’t do horribly for your first time, anyway. Must have had a good teacher.” He barked out a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked entirely proud of himself. “Put it in park and switch with me.”

    She had never really appreciated the view from Point Dume until today, the way the waters stretched out for miles. Tony liked driving with the windows down, Danny learned, especially on a sunny day with prime weather. He looked at ease. It was a wonder how not half an hour ago, he was fighting with his personal assistant about…

    The thought was still nagging Danny when they arrived at a small Mom-and-Pop kind of diner, but it went away once the two of them stepped through the door. There was a waiter and an older lady at the counter serving coffee whose face lit up when she saw Tony walk in. It was obvious that he frequented the place, because she sat him at his “usual” booth and brought over a couple of menus.

    The woman’s aura was contagious. She flitted around the diner, taking care of the two other customers with such grace. Danny noticed the woman waving for the young waiter’s attention behind the counter, signing for a refill on coffees. He signed back, _You got it._

    She couldn’t help the smile on her face when they were finally asked for their order, and the woman – Gracie, she later learned – stayed for a bit to talk with them about their day. Danny and Tony sipped at their respective water and coffee as they waited for the food to come out, sitting in a comfortable silence. She eventually noticed the television hanging from the corner, recognizing the man in uniform on the screen. The rolling captions read: PILOT PARACHUTES TO SAFETY AFTER TRAINING MISHAP. $84 MILLION F-22 RAPTOR DESTROYED.

    “That’s your friend Rhodey, right?” Danny asked, pointing. She hasn’t met him yet, not in person, because she had the tendency to not want to go out and socialize, and Colonel James Rhodes was a very busy man who didn’t exactly prioritize meeting orphans that Tony takes under his wing.

    Tony turned around in his seat, attention going to the TV, and Danny’s eyes zeroed in on the dried blood coming from behind his ear. How the hell did he manage to hurt himself now?

    “ _An unfortunate training exercise involving an F-22 Raptor occurred yesterday. I am pleased to report that the pilot was not injured_.”

    Tony faced forward again, shaking his head. He huffed a laugh through his nose. Danny heard him mutter, “’Not that simple,’ my ass.”

    Rhodey looked down at his notes on the podium. “ _As for the unexpected turn of events on the ground in Gulmira, it is still unclear who or what intervened, but I can assure you that the United States government was not involved_.”

    The bullet-holes, the injury, the jet, the fight with Pepper. Her eyes narrowed at Tony, interest piqued. “Did you have something to do with that?” she asked him, voice raising an octave.

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, feigning innocence. Gracie came back to set down their platters of eggs and bacon and pancakes, and Tony thanked her earnestly. He reached for the syrup and drowned the pancakes in it.

    “I heard you fight with Pepper,” Danny told him, watching as he sighed and set down the syrup bottle. “The suit looked wrecked, and in case you didn’t know, you’re bleeding, just there.” She motioned to the spot of her head where it mirrored his.

    He reached for it, wincing a bit when he hit a sensitive spot. Tony started, “Don’t worry about me; I’m twice your age, kid, I can take care of myself.”

    Danny speared her scrambled eggs with a fork and shoveled it to her mouth, preventing her from letting a retort slip. _If janky eating schedules, days of insomnia, and unfettered vigilantism is ‘taking care’ of yourself, we’re all screwed._ She didn’t push the subject anymore.

    The young waiter came by some time later to refill their drinks. Danny signed out, _Thank you_ , followed by _Gracie is wonderful_.

    _Thank you, I’ll tell her._ His face had lit up, a smile splitting from ear to ear.

    Looking up at him now, Danny noticed the strong resemblance between them two. _Is she your mom?_

_Yes._

    They exchanged a few more words before he excused himself, and Tony was all but gaping at her when she went to take a drink. “Since when did you know sign language?” he managed to get out.

    She shrugged, hiding a smile. “Took it on in high school, but I think I learned the most when I was with my old boyfriend. He was deaf.”

    “High school? So, that was before…” Tony trailed off, but she knew what he was wanting to ask. _Before the cancer, before The Workshop, before the monster_. He cleared his throat, asking instead, “So, your boyfriend. What was he like?”

    If anyone had told Danny that she would be talking about first-loves with Tony Stark at nine in the morning on a Wednesday, she would have laughed in their face.

    “His name was Nyle.”


	9. Let's Kill Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I retreat, words, wars and symphonies  
> Make room we're taking over here  
> You're the galantine, cold and alone, it suits you well  
> Won't find me perching here again”  
> \- Panic! At the Disco

Danny woke up from a nightmare almost every night that week. It was always the same recurring one, being back _there_. She wasn’t sure what brought it on; maybe it was talking with Tony about her old life. Maybe it was something worse.

    She had gone looking for Pepper, finding her talking with Tony in the workshop in the late afternoon. The door was propped open, but she could tell whatever they were talking about was serious. Something about hacking into his own company mainframe, something about secret weapons dealings. Danny was smart enough to leave them alone, but she was deathly curious. She sat at the top of the steps near the bend in the stairs, close enough to hear the tail end of their conversation.

    “Tony,” she heard Pepper sigh, “you know that I would help you with anything, but I cannot help you if you’re going to start all of this again.”

    “There is nothing _except_ this. There is no art opening, there’s no benefit, there’s _nothing_ to sign. There’s the next mission, and nothing else.”

    “Is that so? Well, then I quit.” Pepper seemed to toss something onto the workbench, and then began to head out.

    In a slight panic, Danny got up from her perch on the stairs, but Tony wasn’t done talking. When she was sure that Pepper wasn’t going to out her, she sat back down.

    “You stood by my side all these years while I reaped the benefits of destruction,” he all but spat. “And now that I want to protect the people I put in harm’s way, you want to walk out?”

    “You’re going to kill yourself, Tony. I’m not gonna be a part of it.”

    What he said next came out in a rush: “I shouldn’t be alive. Unless it was for a reason.” A beat. Two. “I’m not crazy, Pepper. I just finally know… what I have to do. And I know in _my heart_ that it’s right.”

    A silence blanketed them momentarily.

    “You and Danny are all I have too, you know.”

    The girl smiled at that sentiment, moving to get up and take the steps two at a time. She had barely situated herself on the couch and turned on the television when Pepper stepped onto the floor, a flash-drive in her hands. They locked eyes, and just as always, her foster mom could see right through her.

    “How much did you hear?” she asked, placing a hand on her hip.

    Danny grew sheepish, smiling apologetically even though she had no regrets. “I’d be lying if I said none of it, but your voices carry.”

    Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “Danny, what am I going to do with you?”

    “Take me to Stark Industries with you, hopefully,” she answered. Off of Pepper’s pointed look, she added, “For moral support!”

    “You’re staying at reception.” Pepper turned to leave.

    Danny hopped up from the couch, shutting off the screen and following after her. “That works, too.”

    The drive to the Stark Industries office was longer than expected with the Los Angeles traffic, but Happy was a great conversationalist and Danny never ran out of things to say. Pepper kept her word when they got there, however, because she sat Danny down in one of the seats on the first-floor reception area and left her there to fulfill whatever errand or mission that Tony had asked her to do.

    It was a quarter to seven when a familiar face walked past. Obadiah Stane glanced at her briefly, stopped short, and then turned back. Oh, boy. “Daniela, this is a surprise. What are you doing down here?”

    She swallowed, plastering a respectful smile onto her lips. “Just, you know, waiting for Pepper to get back. Said she wouldn’t be long.”

    “Ah, I see. Is Tony with her?” Stane was smiling, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that irked her.

    “Nope, still at home.” _Leave, bald man. Go somewhere else._ “Just needed Pepper to grab something right quick.”

    “Well, I’ll go up to see if she needs help with anything.” _Oh, fuck, no, don’t do that_. “It was nice catching up. See you around, kid.”

    “You, too, Mr. Stane,” she said, giving a half-hearted wave. Danny watched his back as he went up the staircase, hoping that he would just _please trip right now_. But he made it up without a hitch, making a beeline for the main office.

    A few minutes passed in silence, with Danny biting at the edge of her fingernails. But then the Sharp One stirred. _I did not like him._

“Join the club,” Danny muttered.

    _Do you know how easily we could just go up there and decapitate him?_

    “No! God. You can’t just kill people whenever you want to.”

    A voice jumped into her one-sided conversation, asking, “I’m sorry, _who_ can’t just kill people whenever they want to?”

    Danny’s face felt flush, her eyes widening. Her words were caught in her throat. She relaxed somewhat when she saw the form of Agent Coulson standing beside her. A Visitor’s Pass was clipped to his lapel.

    “I’m just kidding,” he followed up, grinning slightly. “Although, I am curious to see who’s gotten on the Other One’s bad side.”

    “I can assure you, it was…” Danny trailed off when she heard footsteps. Pepper’s footsteps, in particular. She was rushing down the stairs, her heels clicking loudly.

    Something was wrong.

    “Ms. Potts,” Coulson started, “we had an appointment. Did you forget about our appointment?”

    “Nope. Right now, come with me.”

    “Right now?” Coulson got to his feet just as Danny did. The look on his face showed that he was a little concerned.

    “We’re gonna have it right now. Yup. Walk with me.” Pepper turned her head back before saying to the agent, “You’re going to have the meeting of your life. Your office.”

    “Uh, what’s going on, Speedy Gonzales?” Danny asked, following her gaze. She looked up at the second-floor railing, seeing Obadiah staring them down as they left. Oh. _Oh_.

    “Is he following us?” Pepper asked her once they reached the parking lot. It took a moment before she realized that Happy had driven them earlier. To Coulson, she said, “We’re taking your car.”

~*~*~*~

Danny had only sat in silence as Pepper and Agent Coulson poured over the files retrieved from Stark Industries. It was all the proof they needed against Obadiah Stane, proof that he was dealing with the terrorist organization under the table. Even then, it came at such a surprise to see that he was the one who ordered the hit on Tony’s life almost seven months ago.

    How different could their lives have been? She had never felt so… What was the word? _Insignificant? Out-of-place? Useless?_

    _Wow, thanks. Like I needed those reminders._

_You asked._

    Over the last couple of hours, Danny and Pepper had informed Coulson about the events following Tony’s return. Coulson had seemed more inclined than anything else to ask Danny questions regarding the new suit that they worked together to build.

    “Why would he trust you to help build this thing?” Assessing the almost hurt expression on the young woman’s face, he amended, “Sorry, no offense. I’m just… morbidly curious.”

    Danny pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, shrugging as she answered Coulson’s inquiry. “To be perfectly honest, I ask myself that same question. I mean, I’m a twenty-year-old nobody that popped out of nowhere, who now has the ear of one of the greatest minds of our time.”

    “Oh, honey…” Pepper grasped one of Danny’s hands and squeezed. “You’re not a nobody –”

    “Pep, I’m not – If my parents hadn’t died and you hadn’t fostered me, I would be,” she insisted coolly.

    There was a brief silence. Clearing his throat, Coulson asked then, “Does Stane know anything about the new suit?”

    “I don’t think so,” Pepper answered, still holding Danny’s hand. “Tony never really lets other people in his workshop.”

    “He kept it off the SI servers; that much I know.” The corners of Danny’s lips pulled down in a frown as she said, “Stane was interested in a power source, the miniature Arc Reactor that Tony had. And if he was building his own suit… I mean, shit, that’s worth worrying over, right?”

    Pepper said, “Should I call him? I haven’t told him yet about Obie.”

    Coulson and Danny sat in anticipation as she dialed up the man on her cellphone, waiting for an answer. Pepper’s face relaxed when it seemed that he picked up but worry replaced it just as quickly. A short chill went up her spine when Danny heard, very lightly, a high-pitched sound that seemed to be coming from Pepper’s line.

    Pepper frowned, almost like she couldn’t hear it at all. “Tony? Are you there? Hello?”

    The line disconnected.

    “Where’s Mr. Stark right now?” Coulson questioned, reaching for the landline on his desk. He called for some free agents to stay on-deck and meet them downstairs.

    “Should still be at home,” Danny said, before realizing. “Alone.”

    The three of them left Coulson’s office immediately, making a plan to arrest Obadiah with the other agents in the lobby. Pepper had Rhodey on the line as they exited into the SHIELD parking garage. She explained everything to him, or at least tried to, and told him to go check on Tony. With her slightly enhanced hearing, Danny could hear Rhodey’s surprise.

    “ _What do you mean, he paid to have Tony killed?_ ” he repeated incredulously over the phone. “ _Pepper, slow down. Why would Obadiah –?_ ”

    “Rhodey, you have to go to his house. I’m starting to get worried –”

    “ _Okay, where’s Tony now?_ ”

    “I don’t know. He’s not answering his phone. Please go over there and make sure everything’s okay.” Pepper ended the call with Rhodey and turned to Coulson and the other agents. “I know a shortcut, I’ll drive.”

    Coulson nodded. When Danny reached for the back-passenger door, he pushed it closed. “Sorry, Danny. I’m not keen on letting you anywhere near Stane,” he said firmly.

    “Agent Coulson’s right,” Pepper agreed. “You shouldn’t get involved with this.”

    Danny caught herself as her mouth dropped open. “I can help,” she pleaded, looking them both in the eyes. “What if he’s figured out the power problem? You’ve never even _seen_ Tony’s suit in action.”

    Coulson challenged, “I have. Footage from Gulmira, and the fighter jet accident –”

    “Then you must know that five agents with measly guns isn’t going to be enough.”

    He sighed, taking a moment to consider his options. “Is your condition in check?” Coulson asked her, which earned him a questioning look from Pepper.

    Danny inhaled a deep breath, giving the agent a nod. He looked down at her once more before nodding to his fellow agents, telling them to stay close. Coulson got into the passenger seat, and Danny followed. As she buckled up, her eyes met Pepper’s in the rearview mirror. She could tell that she would have a lot of explaining to do later on.

    Pepper’s shortcut to the Stark Industries production warehouse got them there within fifteen minutes. They left the cars running as they all jumped out, making headway to the front entrance. The redhead swiped them in, leading them around the corner and past the larger Arc Reactor.

    Danny and the SHIELD agents waited as Pepper tried swiping her key card, which resulted in nothing after three tries. “My key’s not working,” she said. “It’s not opening the door.”

    Coulson nonchalantly held out his right hand, and one of the agents placed a small device in his waiting palm. He placed it on the Section 16 door lock while Pepper marveled over it.

    “Oh, wow! What’s that? It’s, like, a little device? It’s, like, a thing that’s going to pick the lock?”

    He pressed a button on the puck-sized gadget and beeping began to sound. “You might want to take a few steps back,” Coulson warned.

    Pepper grabbed Danny and walked her a few paces, facing away from the door. They both braced themselves, covering their ears. A small explosion occurred, and the agents immediately turned on their heels and went through the door. After going down a short flight of stairs, Coulson led them into another door and into the darkened warehouse laboratory.

    Danny was on-edge even with the SHIELD agents baring their guns. Perhaps it was the lack of light, or perhaps it was just in her head. Whatever it was, she didn’t like the feeling.

    They came upon a bulky suit of armor, held up by chains. It looked worn down, but Danny could see how this inspired the Mark II and III armors that Tony developed recently. “Looks like you were right,” Coulson said dejectedly. “He _was_ building a suit.”

    Pepper sounded unimpressed as she said, “I thought it’d be bigger.”

    The agents split up; some went to check the surrounding area while the others looked at the running computers. Moving chains sent the hairs on Danny’s body standing. A chill rolled up her spine, and she noticed Pepper turn around in response to the sound.

    Danny glanced at the blueprints and schematics displayed on one of the computer screens, noting the hulking design of the armor looked about three times the size of the one they had just seen. It took a moment to realize that it hadn’t gone to its screensaver. Someone was just here.

    Before she could say anything, Danny heard Pepper scream. She saw her running from around the corner, and then noticed the thirty-foot mecha that came barreling after her. The four remaining SHIELD agents started to shoot at the armor while Pepper continued running for the door. Danny’s first instinct was to grab onto the railing and swing herself over, ducking under the platform before Obadiah crushed the components around them.

    It was horribly quiet. There were no gunshots. No movements. But then the platform above her began to be ripped back, and Danny fell hard onto her ass, eyes wide as she looked up at the giant robot armor towering over her.

    “There you are, little one,” Obadiah said through the suit. He reached for her as she scrambled away, but Danny couldn’t get in-between the standing servers in time. “You have been a thorn in my side ever since you showed up.”

    Danny tried squirming in his grip, gritting her teeth. She started to swing her legs down, hoping to slip away, but Obadiah made his way up to the top of the lab, forcefully shoveling his way out to the surface. She braced herself as asphalt and gravel came raining down, eventually greeted by the cool air of Los Angeles.

    “Danny, oh my God!” Pepper shouted, hands over her mouth. “Let her go, Obie!”

    “I don’t think I will.” His grip on Danny tightened as he pressed her against the front of the suit. Her enhanced strength did little to help her wriggle out of it, but at least she was able to keep his mechanical arms from crushing her. At one point, the Sharp One came to the forefront of her mind. Danny’s feet found purchase against the mecha, and with a newfound strength she broke out of Obadiah’s hold and fell to the ground beside Pepper. She took in shallow breaths, having had the wind knocked out of her.

    Obadiah stood up straighter in his suit, looking down at them both. “Where do you think you’re going?” He seemed to track Danny as she crawled back; her eyes were burning, and he could probably see the green coming from her irises. An arm raised and the artillery aimed at them. “Your services are no longer required.”

    Pepper pulled Danny to her feet just as a voice came from the sky: “STANE!”

    A red and gold streak came down and collided with Obadiah’s suit. He and Tony fell back down into the hole in the ground, and Danny heard them crash through the building and onto the busy street nearby. Crash after crash and honking horns sounded.

    _Thanks, Sharp One._

_No need. If you die, I die. It was merely self-preservation._

    Danny’s brow furrowed. “Wow, rude,” she whispered under her breath. Sharp aches began in her sides as she slowly caught her breath, wincing.

    “Are you alright?” Pepper asked, brushing away her hair and looking at the scratches along Danny’s palms. She looked over Danny like a worried mother would, seeing if she had sustained any injuries. Their eyes met, and her expression changed. “Your eyes… are _green_. Like, _bright green_.”

    _Oh, fucking damn it._

    “Okay. I’ll explain later, Gigi, but I’ve got to –”

    “You are _not_ going out there! No!” Pepper’s grip on Danny’s arm was furious, and it took her aback. “My one and only job is to keep you safe, and tonight just sort of ruined that –”

    “You just gotta get used to it.” Danny pulled Pepper into a hug before shuffling out of her grip. “Now it’s my turn to keep you and other people safe.” She started running out to the street, ignoring the pain in her side.

    “Daniela!” Pepper shouted, but she was too far away.

    Civilians were scrambling every which direction, abandoning their vehicles in the middle of the road in order to escape the fight between Tony and Obadiah. Some cars were totaled, either by having crashed or probably being used as a frisbee. Danny stood for a moment, surveying the scene. Most of the cars nearby were empty, their owners long gone. She saw incoming cars slow down, and then promptly turn around.

    Danny watched as Obadiah picked up a vehicle and threw it on Tony, who thankfully caught it and roughly placed the car and its passengers on the ground. The woman inside seemed to panic and hit the gas, dragging him along the road on the hood of her car until he was able to push off from under them.

    A brightly lit bus across the road seemed empty, but upon closer inspection Danny saw a handful of passengers struggling to get the door open. She rushed over, seeing that some of the windows were propped. “Can one of you guys get the lever working?” she asked loudly.

    “Something’s wrong with it,” a man responded. “We’ve been trying to pry the door open.”

    Obadiah and Tony were getting closer. She needed to get these people out _fast_. Danny exhaled, shaking her arms out. “Okay, I’m gonna need a couple of your guys to pull from the inside, alright?”

    She watched as the two biggest men headed to the front, fingers gripping the rubber between the bus door. From the outside, she began pulling one way, eventually feeling the door give. She ushered the six towards safety, away from the suits fighting each other. Danny glanced over her shoulder as she followed them.

    “For thirty years, I’ve been holding you up!” Obadiah pressed a heavy foot down onto Tony’s chest. “I built this company from nothing! Now nothing is going to stand in my way.” Across the median, she saw Obadiah kick Tony into the side of the now-empty bus. “Least of all, you.” A missile protruded from Obadiah’s shoulder, and a laser targeting system flashed inside the bus. It launched, blowing it up and sending debris flying everywhere.

    Danny ducked behind a nearby car, feeling the heat of the explosion against her skin. Fear washed over her momentarily until she saw Tony’s suit above them, flying.

    “Impressive,” Obadiah said. “You’ve upgraded your armor.”

    Danny took the chance to get to her feet, hoping to make it across the road and head back to safety. She had just made it around another totaled vehicle before it exploded behind her, probably from another missile sent by Obadiah.

    He tsked at her, stomping in her direction. “You always go looking for trouble, don’t you, kid?” he asked.

    “Hey!” Tony shouted to get his attention. “I’m the one that you want, right? Then come and get me, asshat.”

    Obadiah turned back to Tony. “Well, then I’m glad I’ve made some upgrades of my own!” The feet of his iron monger suit shifted to reveal a rocket mechanism. He literally launched from the asphalt, beginning his ascent.

    “Danny, go back to the lab!” Tony called to her before turning and flying into the night sky.

    She didn’t need to be told twice. Danny found Pepper still outside of the Stark Industries building and hustled beside her. “Pepper, where are the agents?”

    “I don’t know,” she said. “No one’s come out yet. Oh, God, are they dead?”

    Danny shook her head. “No, no.” _At least, not all of them_. “Look, we gotta go.”

    “What about –?” She raised a hand to her Bluetooth. “Tony! Oh my God, are you okay?”

    They could hear noises coming from the roof. Danny could vaguely see the top of Obadiah’s suit of armor from the ground. Whatever Tony’d tried to do in the atmosphere must have failed.

    “Tony!” Pepper gasped then, running a hand through her hair. Danny watched on as Pepper listened intently to whatever he was telling her. “Well, how are you going to do that?”

    “Do what?” Danny asked, looking at her. “What does he want us to do?”

    “He wants us to overload the reactor,” she said. Pepper looked as if she steeled herself and began walking back into the building, stepping through the shattered glass doors.

    Danny followed her in, the glass crunching underneath their feet. There seemed to be a lot of that, broken glass. Manufacturers were getting a run for their money where Tony was concerned.

    “What do you need me to do?” she asked, watching Pepper’s movements.

    “Uh, the-the main console. Open the circuits, and then we wait to hit the button.”

    Danny ducked under the railing that encompassed the Arc Reactor and found the servers. She flipped the circuit levers down with ease before returning to Pepper’s side. They began turning on the rest of the system, turning the switches open on all the channel feeds.

    From the corner of her eye, she saw the entrance to Section 16. It was still propped open, the flashing red lights washing over the walls. Danny knew four bodies littered the ground down there, where Obadiah had gone after them. But Coulson and the other agent – where did they go? She voiced her concerns to Pepper.

    Glass started coming from above. Obadiah had started to shoot bullets at Tony, who held onto one of the panes. Tony called down, “Pepper, time to push the button!”

    Danny and Pepper stared up at him, unsure of what to do. The latter called out, “You told me not to!”

    Explosions. Missiles were being deployed and hitting wide. Danny wondered if Tony had ruined Obadiah’s targeting systems.

    “Just do it!” Tony shouted.

    Pepper reasoned, “You’ll die!”

    They were running out of time. A missile passed by Tony, and his grip faltered. He hung to the roof with his right arm. “Push it!”

    Pepper hit the master bypass before grabbing Danny and rushing out of the building. The Arc Reactor started shooting sparks of electricity out, the air around them crackling. Its energy surged upwards, like a beam, and went off into the clouds in the sky. Danny watched as it disappeared, thunder being the only evidence of its wake.

    Then, Danny heard what must have been Obadiah’s suit falling down towards the reactor core, bringing down the gantry with it. She reacted in a split second, pushing Pepper away from the entrance just as the reactor exploded. The blast sent Danny flying a few feet, and she rolled onto the asphalt and glass. Battered and bruised, but not the worse for wear.

    She was still pretty disoriented when someone came to her side, but Danny could recognize Coulson’s cologne. Her ears were ringing, and Pepper was fussing over her, but she was going to be fine. She was always fine.

    God, but she was tired. The adrenaline rush was long gone. She needed a nap.

    The voices were coming muffled to her ears, like cotton balls were in them, but Danny understood well enough that Coulson told them both to stay put as he went looking for Tony. And because time was a construct, she didn’t notice how much time had passed before an ambulance pulled around the corner with its loud siren and bright lights. Someone had wrapped a shock blanket around her shoulders, and the SHIELD agent – Danny noticed they weren’t real EMTs – helped her get into the truck. An oxygen mask was held up to her face, and she was instructed to breathe.

    Yeah, she could do that. Breathe. In and out. Just focus on –

    “Tony,” she gasped, seeing him being wheeled over on a stretcher that she didn’t realize they had brought out in the first place. The only sense of relief she got was from the occasionally flickering Arc Reactor beneath his chest plate.


	10. Iron Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Heavy boots of lead  
> Fills his victims full of dread  
> Running as fast as they can  
> Iron man lives again”  
> \- Black Sabbath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm so sorry that chapters have been really slow (and that it's been a hot minute since I've uploaded). School is finally over so I plan to update more frequently during break. Please leave a kudos and a comment if you have any feedback!

There was a flurry of people over the next hour following the incident. The fake ambulance had taken them to the secret SHIELD office in town. STRIKE teams were everywhere; engineers were trying to pry the suit from Tony’s unconscious body; nurses were escorting Danny and Pepper around.

    Danny was having a hard time keeping her cool because she was disoriented and separated from the two people she trusted – but then Agent Coulson was at her side, present and familiar, and her nerves were quelled. Pepper was being questioned by SHIELD agents for the second time in twenty-four hours. The other agents in the secret facility were on high alert, trying to maneuver the news space and cover the fight between Obadiah Stane and Tony Stark. Pressers were being scheduled already, and goddamn, the world was about to have a field day.

    Danny’s body ached from the night’s events: She had apparently sustained a concussion from the blast and a couple fractured ribs from nearly being smothered by Stane’s iron monger suit, but she knew within another hour she would be fine. The girl had snuck out of her makeshift hospital room once her nurse had left her to her own devices, shuffling down the hallways in search for –

    “Ma’am? Can I help you with something?” It was one of the other nurses on the floor, concern etched across his features. When she turned to look at him, recognition filled his eyes. “Ms. Barton. I didn’t realize –”

    Danny said, “Tony Stark? Where is he?” She angled her head down the hall once more, brows raising in another silent question.

    He disclosed, “Room 616, down the hall to the left.”

    Tony was fast asleep, buried in stark-white sheets. He had red marks and cuts across his skin, stitches along his forehead. An IV drip was hanging beside some sort of device that connected to his Arc Reactor. Danny felt a little relief upon registering the strong beeping from the heart monitor.

    Danny pulled one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs beside Tony’s bed, perching in it with her legs crossed. She watched as his chest rose and fell. He was safe now. He was alive. Everything was going to be fine.

    Except for the silence. Her headspace was too quiet. Danny hoped that it was only the concussion; she wasn’t sure how she’d fare without that second voice in her head. Ironically enough, she now welcomed the Sharp One after having the presence for the few months.

    She greeted the nurse when one came in to replace Tony’s drip bag. Would Pepper be by to see them at any point? Her eyes wandered out to the hall briefly, looking through the small window on the door as people passed.

    Soon enough, Danny felt her consciousness fading. Her eyelids were starting to feel heavy, but she knew Tony was safe, in front of her, and she’ll keep him safe from now on.

    Well, she can keep him safe _after_ she gets some rest…

~*~*~*~

It was close to four in the morning by the time they had touched down in the facility. Clint strode down to the loading dock, following behind the three other agents that had been on his STRIKE team. He began to undo his arm brace after catching his bow on his pack holder. Ward, Ruediger, and Davis stowed away their holstered weapons once they passed the lockers. Their team of four began their trek up to the main office for debrief.

    “Barton, your squad’s back pretty late.” The agent at the entrance checked their dossier and made a face. “You were due back at the Hub _three days_ ago.”

    “Ruediger caused the op to go belly-up, but we managed,” he revealed, throwing a smug look at the agent in question. “This west field office was the closest we could get before our quinjet gave out.”

    Grant Ward, one of the young and fastest-rising agents, walked ahead of Clint. He swiped along on his portable screen, likely catching up on local news. “Can someone give us an update on Stark Industries? Seems like we missed all the fun.”

    Clint stopped short, brows knitting together. _If it involved Stark, it probably involved his sister._ He stepped up to Ward, grabbing his shoulder and asking, “What was that about Stark?”

    Ward angled the screen to him, showing the newscast of the energy blast that was seen from the Stark Industries building. “Some sort of fight went down in LA by the factory,” he answered meekly, giving the senior agent a onceover. “Coulson picked up three civvies.”

    “Debrief first, Clint.” Davis piped up, further suggesting, “Find Coulson later.”

    Another agent passed them by, stating simply, “Coulson’s just left the med bay.”

    “What was he doing in the med bay?”

    “Lost four agents in LA. He’s been watching over Stark and his ward for the last couple –”

    Clint’s stomach dropped. He was gone before the sentence was finished. The archer violently shoved between the agents in his way, finding the nearest stairwell and taking the steps two at a time. After finding out the room number and subsequently seeing his sister’s empty bed, Clint started getting anxious.

    It took another five minutes of searching through the corridors before he saw her through a window into one of the other rooms, knocked out in a chair. Clint opened the door gingerly. His sister looked pretty okay, not the worse for wear. What outward injuries she may have sustained appeared healed by now. Her mouth was slightly open, most definitely deep in her sleep.

    The bed creaked as its occupant moved, and Clint made eye contact with none other than Tony Stark himself. Clint noticed some sort of device attached to the light that emanated from his chest. Stark looked like absolute shit (not that _he_ was any better, only having returned from a long mission).

    “Sorry, uh, guy? I don’t remember asking for visitors,” he croaked out lightly, looking Clint up and down. He had bruises and cuts littering his stupidly handsome face; a look of mild irritation and confusion was evident. “Did the other agent send you?”

    “Just checking in,” Clint said. Motioning to Danny, he added, “She wasn’t in her room, so I came looking.”

    “Well, you found her,” he held, a tinge of protectiveness entwining his words. Stark pushed himself up with some effort, grimacing against the pain. “Feel free to leave whenever. Or sooner. But, you know, free country and all.”

    Stark’s blasé remark caused a pang of irritation to his core; he wasn’t exactly sure the proper response to that. He’d heard ample things about Stark and his lip. It was cold and dismissive, but Clint recognized the man’s body language. Even injured and likely fighting off shock, Tony Stark looked like he owned the room. He was tense, shielding Danny from where he sat, angled slightly to face Clint just in case he tried something.

    Clint recognized the protective streak because he’s the same way about his sister.

    His eyes flickered back to Danny’s sleeping form, finally realizing she must have never told Stark about him, about her being involved with SHIELD in the first place. Danny had kept his work a secret, so to Stark, Clint was a total stranger. Before he had a chance to properly introduce himself, a knock came at the door.

    He turned to find Coulson sticking his head in. “Ah, Barton, thought I’d find you here,” Coulson said in a stage whisper. He opened the door wider, giving a curt greeting to Stark. “Heard from Davis that you ran off. Go debrief. I’ll let her know to find you when she wakes.”

    If Stark was curious about why they had come looking for Danny, he didn’t show it.

    “What the hell happened?” Clint asked, retreating out into the hall. He stepped up to Coulson, looking him in the eye. “Why are they _here_? I thought you were supposed to keep her safe.”

    Coulson shut the door before answering. “Debrief, and then we’ll talk.”

    “Now’s a good a time as any –”

    “That’s an order, Clint. I’m not going to ask again.”

    And that was that. Clint took in a deep breath. He looked back at his sister, at Coulson, and then at the agents surrounding them that tried to look busy as if they weren’t just listening to their spat. Defeated, he turned on his heel and made his way to the conference room.

    He didn’t see Danny or Stark again until the presser in the late morning.

~*~*~*~

What happened after leaving the Stark Industries lab exploded remained only the briefest of flashes in Tony’s head. He remembered the Arc Reactor blast, and then he was waking up on the medical floor of what he later came to know as SHIELD’s secret field office. The first thing that Tony saw was Danny, asleep and sitting at his bedside. It was… nice. Nice to know that she cared enough. But of course, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone besides Pepper.

    The morning wasn’t too kind to him. (Given, when was _any_ morning kind to him?) It was a check-up with their on-call doctor, and then a debrief with Agent Coulson, and then picking up new clothes because they had to get to the SI office to release a statement.

    Tony had to hand it to the organization that Coulson was a part of; they knew how to cover up huge fuck-ups. Namely, _his_ huge fuck-ups.

    His best friend, Rhodey, was already downstairs providing a prelude to the press who had showed up. As Tony flipped through the morning’s newspaper, being fussed over by Pepper, he listened to the live footage on the television.

    “ _You’ve all received official reports of what occurred at Stark Industries last night_ ,” Rhodey began. “ _There have been unconfirmed reports that a robotic prototype malfunctioned and caused damage to the Arc Reactor. Fortunately, a member of Tony Stark’s personal security_ –”

    “Iron Man,” Tony said, trying the moniker out for size. He continued to scan the news article, holding back a smile. “It’s kind of catchy, it’s got a nice ring to it. I mean, it’s technically not accurate since it’s gold titanium – alloy.” Tony winced when Pepper pulled off the bandage on his nose. He threw her a look, one which she returned. “But it’s got an evocative imagery anyway.”

    After some time, Tony heard voices from the front room. From where he sat, the forms of Danny, Agent Coulson, and the other agent from the night before could be seen. Coulson stepped through the doors to his main office, holding out blue notecards. “Here’s your alibi,” he offered.

    His eyes flickered to Danny and the agent outside. The billionaire folded the newspaper away as he took the cards, nodding his thanks.

    Coulson summarized, “You were on your yacht. We have four papers to put you on Avalon all night and sworn statements from fifty of your guests.”

    “See, I was thinking we can say it just, uh – it was just Pepper and me, alone on –” Tony held back a groan when Pepper forcibly ripped a strip from his forehead. “ – on the yacht.”

    The agent kept his ever-present thin-lipped smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what happened. Just read it word for word.”

    Tony scanned the cards, brows knitting together as he went. _Vacation, yacht guests, security enforcements…_  “There’s nothing about Stane here,” he pointed out, fishing. Tony raised a brow.

    Coulson hadn’t missed a beat as he answered, “That’s being handled. He’s on vacation. Small aircrafts have a poor safety record.”

    _Morbid,_ Tony thought briefly. He blinked. “But what about the whole cover story that – it’s a bodyguard? He’s my bodyg – I mean that… that’s kind of flimsy now.”

    “This isn’t my first rodeo, Mr. Stark,” Coulson almost sighed out. Tony could tell it took everything in the man to suggest as kindly as possible: “Just stick to the official statement, and soon this will all be behind you.” He watched the television momentarily, estimating, “You’ve got… ninety seconds.”

    Pepper caught the agent at the door. “Oh, Agent Coulson? I just wanted to say thank you very much, for all your help.”

    “That’s what we do. You’ll be hearing from us,” he said with finality.

    “From the Strategic Homeland Interv –”

    He smiled. “Just call us SHIELD.” Coulson nodded at them once more before taking his leave. To the others, he announced, “Barton, time to go.”

    Tony was ostensibly curious as to how Danny could have bonded so easily with this agent guy. She had become somewhat of a recluse like himself over the last couple months, didn’t really leave the house and didn’t appear to talk with others outside of their little circle. He watched them, trying not to make it look obvious.

    But then they _hugged_ , and he _kissed the top of her head_ , and Danny smiled and told him, “Don’t be a stranger.”

    Was he having a stroke? What the fu –

    Pepper picked up his suit jacket, bringing him back to the impending task at hand by saying, “Well, let’s get this show on the road.”

    _Right, press conference_. Tony turned around, shaking his head. He put the note cards in between his teeth as he wormed his arms through the jacket sleeves, muttering out, “You know, it’s actually not that bad. Even _I_ don’t think I’m Iron Man.”

    “You’re not Iron Man,” Pepper stated simply.

    “Yeah, I am.”

    “You’re not.”

    “Alright, suit yourself.” He turned around to face her, fixing his cuffs. “See, if I _were_ Iron Man, I’d have this girlfriend who’d know my true identity; she’d be a wreck.”

    A grin. Pepper avoided his gaze, tugging on his tie, fixing his collar.

    “She’d always be worrying that I was gonna die… Yet so proud of the man I’d become. She’d be –” He cocked his head to the side in contemplation. “– wildly conflicted, which would only make her more –” Cleared his throat. “– crazy about me.”

    Nothing.

    Tony looked at Pepper, trying to get a gauge on her. “Tell me you never think about that night.”

    Pepper paused the folding of his handkerchief for a moment before asking, “What night?”

    “You know,” he said, a side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

    Her eyes met his, flickering up, and Tony drew a slow breath because he never really noticed how nice her eyes were. Blue. Incredibly blue. Pepper’s lips tugged at the corners. “Are you talking about… the night that we danced, and… we went up on the roof, and… and then you went downstairs to get a drink, and you… _left_ me there, all by myself?” Her expression was stoic, words pointed. She took a moment, letting the situation sink in. “Is that the night you’re talking about?”

    Tony felt a chill go through him, and he clenched his teeth together. _Oh. Oh, he did do that. Right before leaving for Gulmira mere hours later._ He let out a strangled affirmation, feeling all the blood leave his face.

    “Thought so.” Pepper made an attempt to hold back a satisfied grin, placing his hanky back into his breast pocket. “Will that be all, Mr. –”

    “Yes,” he said almost too quickly. As he angled for the door, he finished, “Yeah, that’ll be all, Ms. Potts.”

    Danny was engrossed with her phone screen when Tony stepped out. She sent him a genuine smile when she noticed him, stowing the device away. “You ready, boss man?”

    Tony snorted a short laugh through his nose, pushing the second glass doors open. He decided to change the subject as they walked, heading for the stairs. “I have a question for you.”

    “Shoot,” she replied, eyes down on her feet as they hustled down the steps.

    Tony asked her quietly, “That guy, with Agent Coulson?” He led her down the hall to the main lobby, where around thirty or so members of the press were gathered. “What was his name?”

    “Oh, Clint? What about him?” Danny followed close to his side, keeping towards the back wall as they entered.

    “You guys seem close is all,” he said lightly, raising an arm to wave at Rhodey. He lowered his hand, passing his coat pocket to feel for the notecards.

    She stole a glance up at the brunet, brows furrowing slightly. A contemplative look appeared on Danny’s features. Tony wondered if she was going to explain who he was to her exactly; the guy looked too young to be her father (who was dead, right, obviously) and too old to be any kind of “friend.” But before he could ask a follow-up question, Rhodey was segueing into his introduction, and the moment had passed.

    “…and now, Mr. Stark has prepared a statement. He will not be taking any questions.”

    The press shuffled around with their recorders and cameras as Tony stepped up to the podium, motioned to Rhodey, and pulled out the blue notecards. He scanned the crowd, feeling his palms sweat. _Here we go_. “Been a while since I was in front of you,” Tony began, testing the waters, “I figured I’ll stick to the cards this time.”

    A polite chuckle rippled through the crowd. _Good, great. Just don’t mess this up._

    He continued, “There’s been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred on the freeway and the rooftop of –”

    One slender hand found its way into Tony’s line of sight, and his eyes followed it down to the smug face of – _what was her name? Carrie? Kristy?_

    “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” she apologized, “but do you _honestly_ expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit? That conveniently appeared, despite the fact you had –”

    “I know that it’s confusing. It _is_ one thing to question if it’s a true story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate, that I’m a – a superhero.”

    “I never said you were a superhero.”

    “Didn’t?” _Keep your cool, Tones_ , he thought to himself. “Well good, because that would be outlandish and, uh, fantastic…” He looked down. The cards were warm now between is fingers. Tony exhaled and stuttered out, “I-I’m just not the hero type, clearly. With this, uh… laundry list of character defects and all the mistakes I’ve made, largely… public.”

    From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Rhodey pause and slowly take a step closer. He leaned up beside Tony, whispering, “Just stick to the cards.” When he pulled back, they made eyes, and Tony definitely got the message.

    He raised the cards up in front of him again, preparing himself to read it verbatim. _Party yacht with fifty attendees. Security guard provided with the suit mechanism. The press might just eat this right up. What did Coulson say? ‘Soon this will all be behind you.’_

    “The truth is…”

    Cameras flashed. The room was quiet, everyone sitting in anticipation for his statement. For a few moments, his world stood still, and Tony was able to really hear himself think. He thought about the adrenaline rush when he flew into the skies. He thought about the absolute feeling of power in his hands. He thought about the _good_ he had done – could do – with the suit.

    Tony looked away from the cards. He thought about being able to prove everyone wrong that said he couldn’t amount to anything. Obadiah. His father. And frankly, he didn’t want to put everything behind him. He was a fucking _superhero_.

    With four words, ten letters, Tony’s life changed forever: “I am Iron Man.”


End file.
